Black Betty
by jo7787
Summary: Elizabeth, or Betty as she's known to her friends & family before they were vaporized from existence, vows to take revenge on those who shattered what was left of her life. After weeks of training with the Minutemen, she's finally ready to breach Downtown, only to end up robbed and alone in Goodneighbor. With the help of Mayor Hancock, Betty's gonna give those who wronged her hell.
1. The Sole Survivor

**Hello out there! This is my (hopefully) triumphant return to this lovely site. I honestly can't believe some people still read/like/favorite my old crap. It's over five years old now, holy shit. I hope you all enjoy this story as well. Thanks for giving it a look!**

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 _Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All Vault residents must vacate immediately._

Betty woke from her frigid slumber with a deafening scream, heard by not one other soul save for a few radroaches scurrying through what remained of the mysterious Vault 111. She tumbled onto the floor, her clear, blue eyes still sensitive and not used to what little brightness given off by the emergency lights within the vault. The alert system for the vault continued in an ominous loop, drilling its message into her skull. She peered up at the cryogenic pod across from her and emptied her stomach, the bile burning her throat. When she closed her eyes again, she heard him. She heard Nate's voice clear as day, moments before the final nuclear warhead slammed just outside of Boston, surrounded by screaming soldiers and hysterical neighbors.

 _"It's gonna be fine...I love you."_

Betty screamed, her voice hoarse with tears. The love of her life was gone and so was their only son, Shaun. She had nothing. Not a damn thing save for the clothes on her back. She remembered the pods closing their doors and Nate reaching out to her with a smile one final time.

 _Procedure complete in 5...4...3...2...1..._

She rolled onto her back, muscles weak from atrophy, and stared at her own cryogenic pod with lifeless eyes. It should have been her coffin and instead, it gave her life. Instead, it was Nate, the beloved war hero of their tight-knit neighborhood who was gunned down, nothing but an annoyance and an obstacle for the cruel man who ripped open his pod and kidnapped Shaun.

 _"At least we have the backup.."_

Why? Why did that man call her 'the back up?' And for what? Betty struggled to her feet but her head refused to quit spinning and she stumbled towards Nate's pod. She sobbed as she looked into the tiny window, the gunshot wound a blight on her husband, frozen in time. She tried to open the pod, refusing to leave Nate behind in a place so tainted. The controls for the pod seemed simple, but in her state, she wasn't able to open it. Just as well. It's not like she would've been able to drag a former soldier weighing almost 200 pounds through the vault and back to their home on her own. One day soon, when her strength and coordination returned, she'd give Nate a proper burial.

"I'll find who did this, and I'll get Shaun back. I promise," Betty whispered to Nate as she rested her cheek against the cold glass.

Betty looked around the gleaming, metal room. Wires shorted out, sending out small flares much like the sparklers one gave to young children on Independence Day. The vault computer continued with its recorded warning message, the alarm wailing in a steady rhythm. She checked the other pods as she shuffled by and all held contorted faces of death, some better preserved than others.

"I...I can't be the only...hello? Hello!?" Betty shouted with her last bit of vocal strength. Nothing. There wasn't anyone left at all.

She shuffled through Vault 111, doing her best to jog her memory into retracing her steps back towards the surface. The vault itself wasn't very large and as a result wasn't as well-stocked. Betty sifted through desks and lockers, but most everything was picked clean with the exception of a 10mm pistol and a half a box of rounds. She walked past a window to the power room, where energy flew freely in an arc high above and occasionally came down like a bolt of lighting. A radroach jumped at Betty from behind a window and she shouted with surprise, falling into the wall behind her. She held up the pistol, pointing it at the massive insect before realizing the glass would hold.

"Giant roaches? What the hell?"

The pistol felt heavy and unfamiliar in Betty's hands. When she was a young girl, her father often dragged her along on his many hunting trips. As he had no other children besides Betty, he was intent on making her 'the son he'd always wanted.' But her skill was with a rifle, not a pistol, and certainly not close-quarter combat, even if it was nothing more than a giant roach. Who knew what sort of diseases it carried?

Over an hour later, an exhausted Betty found her way back to the entrance of Vault 111 after finding an emergency exit in the Overseer's office. She stood for a minute and stared at the gargantuan door. How in the hell would she even open that? Her foot nudged something below the door controls and there, still attached to its previous owner's skeletal arm, was a pip-boy device. She heard about these miniature computers before. Nate even wore one when his platoon fought against the Chinese during the siege of Alaska and told her that the little machine was the sole reason he came back in one piece. That this Pip-boy could do almost anything...maybe even open a door. Betty picked it up from the floor, the scientist's bones clattering against the metal walkway, and slid her left hand and arm through. She marveled when the Pip-boy sprang to life, brought back to the present time from the warmth of her skin beneath her blue vault suit. All she had to do was connect the Pip-boy to the door controls and maybe she'd be able to escape this frozen, metal hell.

The controls on the vault door lit up, and a prompt appeared on the Pip-boy's green tinted screen that read: 'Open Vault 111?'

"Get me the hell out of here," Betty said with a bit of strength returning to her voice, and she slammed her fist on the red button.

Betty watched as the vault began the steps to open the door that at the very least protected her and her family from nuclear fallout and certain death, but did nothing to stop a bald menace with a scarred face from kidnapping her son and murdering Nate. The vault door lifted in a hail of steam and screaming, corroded gears. All that was left was the elevator and she prayed with all her might that it would still be functional enough to transport her back to the surface. Just the walk from bridge, down the stairs, and onto the elevator itself drained Betty of what little energy she had left, but she made it. It felt like hours, hell, it probably was at least three, and she was about to set foot out into the unknown. She couldn't fathom what she'd encounter out on the surface and hoped that she wouldn't be annihilated the moment the elevator lifted her to the surface. If she were to die, she hoped it would be quick.

The seal to Vault 111 unlocked and a bright light streamed into the elevator, to the point that Betty was forced to shield her eyes. She held her breath. She didn't think to search for a hazmat suit of some kind while rifling through the remnants of the vault, but it was too late for that now and the elevator locked into place at the Earth's surface. Eyes still squeezed shut, Betty took a gamble and drew in a deep breath, eliciting a coughing fit on her stressed lungs that brought her to her knees. At least the air seemed harmless...for now.

"I don't wanna look, I don't, I don't," she whispered to herself. "Please be okay, please.."

With no other choice but to open her eyes, Betty would never for all the rest of her years forget how she felt when she gazed upon the ruined wasteland of Boston with a gasp of utter shock for the first time. Her home still stood upright in Sanctuary Hills below her, but many of the other houses did not fare as well, their foundations crumpled beneath them. Electrical towers bent harshly in the horizon, all in the same direction from the nuclear blast. There were no leaves, the grass weak and withered; no life around her whatsoever. The world as she knew it was dead, murdered by desperate yet powerful leaders, and it struck Betty that there was a chance she was the only human being left in Boston. Maybe even the world.

"Oh...god, what have they...what have they done?" she whispered, looking around her. The sun inched past the horizon, bringing forth a new day of Hell for the Commonwealth and its misfortuned inhabitants. "Is this all that's left?"

For the briefest of moments, Betty wished that someone...if anyone was left out here, would walk up behind her and shoot her in the head. But who or what could possibly live through this? For all she knew, Shaun was dead. Nothing so small and delicate could ever make it in a world so brutal and hopeless. She knew, however, if Nate were in her place that he wouldn't give up. Neither would she. Revenge for her late husband and missing son would be her fuel. All she had to do was stand up and walk.

"C'mon, Bets, get up!" Betty grunted aloud, forcing herself on her feet. "Get up and find Shaun! Be a god damn mother!"

Where to start? Where else but home.

Nothing around her seemed familiar anymore. The vault may as well have gotten up and physically moved elsewhere from how disorienting the environment was for Betty. She lived in Boston all her life, from when she was just a 'twinkle' in her father's eyes as her mother once put it, to the day she promised Nate she'd love him for all time at their courthouse wedding, and until the world ended in blistering heat and destruction. She trudged down the path leading from Vault 111 to her old neighborhood. Her old life. The one that was never coming back. Despite the annihilation, Betty could see from a distance at the entrance to the vault, Sanctuary Hills was spared in comparison. A few houses were destroyed beyond repair but as she limped down her street, a brief moment of happiness found its way into Betty's heart when she found her once perfect home still standing strong, a little beat up, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little effort.

Betty heard the unmistakable sound of propulsion jets and dashed into the brambles that now grew beside her home. She reached for her pistol and tried to remember how many shots she fired as she freed herself from the depths of the vault. Was it three or four times she fired at those roaches? The propulsion jets grew louder still and Betty screamed as a Mr. Handy drifted around the corner.

"As I live and breathe! It's...it's really you!" the Mr. Handy shouted. His visual sensors scanned Betty and the robot asked, "Miss Elizabeth, are you quite all right? Your heart-rate is skyrocketing and my sensors tell me you are severely dehydrated. Would you care for some water?"

"C-Codsworth?" she asked with wide eyes. He wasn't human, but she was thrilled to find someone out here in post-apocolyptia.

"At your service once again, mum!" A small compartment opened just beneath Codsworth's second visual sensor and produced a bottle of water, which he retrieved and handed to Betty. She tore open the cap and swallowed every last drop of the pure, cool liquid. She didn't think she'd be so thirsty but other matters weighed heavier on her mind.

"My god, they did it. All that fighting and for what? Everything's...dead," Betty said with a sob. She sat on the sidewalk bleached white by the sun's scorching rays and sniffled as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"Everything's dead? Ah, yes, the garden. The posies have been problematic, I'll admit. If only sir were here to help! Where is Master Nate, by the way? Has he gone off again to help destroy those nasty, little communists overseas?"

"They...they fucking killed him. Now, I'm going kill them, too," Betty snarled, anger coursing through her veins as she attempted to stagger back to her feet. Still lacking the muscle strength, her knees gave out and she crashed back to the cement with a pained grunt.

Codsworth floated back a bit before he asked, "No, no that cannot be! Who would do such a heinous act?"

"I don't know, Vault-Tec maybe? But why would they do something like that?" Betty asked, knowing Codsworth probably wasn't sure himself. "Doesn't matter. Whoever it was, I'm going to hunt them down and shoot them in the head like they did Nate."

"Mum, these thing you're saying, these... terrible things, I...I believe you need a distraction. Yes! A distraction to calm this dire mood. It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers, or perhaps charades? Oh, Shaun does so love that game. Is the...uh...is the lad with you?"

"Do you see him with me? Here, in my arms? Do you?" Betty shouted. "He's gone! Whoever murdered Nate took Shaun too; they stole my baby!"

"Ah, it's just as I thought: hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating properly for over 200 years will do that, I'm afraid."

"200 years? W-what? Are you sure?" Betty asked. She sure was glad to already be on the ground after hearing how long she'd been frozen for. It had felt more like a night's sleep than over two centuries of slumber.

"A bit over 210, actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor...dings to the old chronometer," explained Codsworth as he turned himself around and pointed out several bullet holes peppered into his metal shell. "That means you're two centuries late for dinner, ha ha! Perhaps I could whip you up a snack? You must be famished!"

"What? Food? Yeah, sure..just need a minute to think."

Codsworth floated into her home and Betty wandered in after him. The house remained strangely neat, well, as neat as a house that survived a nuclear blast could be. Most of the larger furniture remained in place and even two of the paintings survived. She faced the hallway, afraid to see what was left of her former life. She took a few steps and peeked into the baby's room. His once bright, blue crib was now peeled and splintered; the mobile Nate had fixed the same day they rushed for the vault hanging haphazardly. She picked up a "You're Special!" book that sat on the dresser and leafed through it, hot tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her and Nate's bedroom didn't fare as well as Shaun's, but enough memories remained to force fresh tears out.

Betty's robotic butler hovered over to her, holding a plate of steaming hot Instamash, Cram, and BlamCo Mac & Cheese all shaped into a smiling face. She took the plate and inhaled the scent of something that remained familiar before she walked over to the couch to begin her feast. Her mind was clear and blank now that she got some food into her withered body, not at all used to the bony protrusions of her wrists and ankles. Two weeks of meals like this, and she'd gain back the bit of weight she lost. Betty thought of nothing else but how absolutely creamy the mac & cheese was and for a few minutes, she was at peace. On the other hand, Codsworth muttered to himself, dusting areas around the home with greater and greater urgency. He let out a shriek that almost sent Betty's plate of goodness flying out of her lap.

"You okay there?" Betty asked. "I'm afraid you're about to literally blow up on me...can that even happen? Please don't."

Codsworth faced Betty, and she swore if he were able to, the poor Mr. Handy would be sobbing as hard as she had been for the past several hours. He turned off his jet propulsion and sank to the floor before he replied, "I'm...I'm so sorry, Miss Elizabeth, it's just...I'VE BEEN SO BLOODY LONESOME! More than two hundred years of no one to serve, nothing to do! I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but _nothing_ gets out nuclear fallout from vinyl wood. **NOTHING!** And the car! Oh _god_ , how does one polish rust?!"

"Come on, Codsworth, focus. I'm here now, it's all right," Betty assured him while she pat the top of where a head on a human child would be on a Mr. Handy. "Is there anything you can tell me about...what it's like out there now?"

"I'm afraid I don't know anything, mum. The bombs came and you all left in such a hurry. I thought for certain you and your family were dead. I...I found this holotape while cleaning one day. I believe sir was going to present it to you as a surprise, but then...well...everything happened." Codsworth handed Betty the holotape and took the now empty plate over to the kitchen.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice. "Would you hold onto it, actually? Just until I can handle listening to it. If I do that now, I'll never leave this house."

"Of course, mum, and you're quite welcome," said Codsworth. "Shall we uh, search the neighborhood together? We may find something of use to you."

"There's nothing left here. It's all gone."

"If you wish to venture to parts unknown, I won't stop you. You could try Concord; I've seen people walking about there and only slightly...heavily armed. I shall guard the neighborhood in your absence."

Remembering his outburst moments ago, Betty asked if he would like to join her on the short trip to the nearby town.

"I must be honest, Miss Elizabeth, I don't believe I'd be any use to you out there. I did, however, notice a handsome German Shepard dog rummaging about near the Red Rocket. He appears well-kept, so it seems he is tame compared to the other mongrels that chase me down the street every now and again." Betty stood up and Codsworth handed her a ratty knapsack filled with snack cakes and bottled water. "Good luck in your search for dear Shaun...and give those who took sir from us Hell."

Betty was about to leave the relative safety of her neighborhood when she shielded her eyes from the morning sun and slammed the pip-boy into her forehead by accident, forgetting it was even there. She turned the knob a few times and noticed there was a radio option. She tuned in, not expecting anything but dead, static air, and instead heard a young man's voice say, "And here's 'It's All Over but the Crying' by the Ink Spots on D-Diamond C-City Radio."

 _"It's all over, but the crying...and nobody's crying but me. Friends all over know I'm trying, to forget about how much I care for you..."_

She was stunned and unable to move as the song played; there _was_ life out here. A dog barked and she snapped her head up in time to see a large hound by the Red Rocket snap its jaws at what appeared to be a giant fly and shake it furiously. Time to make a new friend.


	2. Beasts of Concord

Beyond the lop-sided bridge, between Sanctuary Hills and the Red Rocket gas station, Betty came across the bodies of a man and a mange-ridden dog. She'd seen pictures of death and destruction from Nate's time in the Army, in the courtroom, and on television, but never in person. The closest she came to seeing carnage of any sort before the bombs fell was when she ran over a raccoon by accident coming home from work one evening. Looking over the bodies from a couple feet away wasn't as horrific as she'd thought, though the smell she could do without. Of all things, however, it was the clothes this man wore that garnered Betty's attention.

He wore a faded leather jacket and pants, and when she compared it to her own vault suit, Betty realized how foolish it was to wear such bright colors against the drab grays and browns of the ravaged suburbs. The only clothes left back at Sanctuary Hills were pre-war; nothing that would give her any sort of adequate protection. The dead man's clothes would have to suffice. Betty reached down and turned the him over, falling back with a gasp. At least now she knew it wasn't his clothing that ended his life. His throat had been ripped out, most likely by the dead mongrel beside him. His death may have been recent, but rigor mortis had begun and Betty was forced to wrestle the jacket and pants free from the corpse. She also found another handgun, this one home-made using small pipes. Even she had to admit that it was clever on his part.

Betty debated on whether or not to return home to change into the more subdued clothes but could only snort with amusement at the thought. No one was out here, she was alone, and running out of fucks to give. Truth be told, she was never much of a thrill-seeker. Not that she didn't want to be, but opportunities like standing naked outside your neighborhood and stealing clothes from a dead body, those things didn't happen to her. Nate was the one all the adventures revolved around. For her, law school was the only adventure-esque sort of experience she ever had before waking up to this current insanity.

The leathers were a little too large for her and stank to high heaven, but they did the job. Betty could only imagine what happened to women who traveled alone in the wastes, so it worked out to discover men's clothes. As she pulled her boots back on, the German Shepard dog she saw moments ago down the road now trotted toward her, with a wagging tail and his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. Betty always thought of herself as an avid animal lover, but reached for her 10mm pistol just the same, lest she meet the same fate as the man who's clothes she wore.

"Hey boy, what're you doing out here all by yourself?" she asked as the dog barked and jumped up to slather her cheek with drool before he sat and wagged his tail.

"You wanna come with me, pal?"He whined and pushed his snout into her hand. Such a simple action was enough to warm the tiniest sliver of her cold, angry heart. Animals, especially dogs, were a soft spot for Betty.

"Okay then, let's stick together. I hope you're ready to fight, because I don't really know what I'm doing."

The dog gave a short bark and began to sniff about ahead of Betty as she walked down the road to Concord. All the stress began to pile onto her shoulders, and dread crept into her mind, rearing its ugly head. Betty gave a low, soft whistle and the dog's head perked right up at the sound. "Find me some cigarettes, pup, would you? If there was ever a time to start up again, I'm pretty sure it's now."

He barked twice before taking off through the bushes and back towards the gas station. A few minutes later, after the sounds of metal clattering about settled back to silence, the dog ran over to Betty with a carton of cigarettes in his mouth, still sealed from the elements and a bit of dog drool. He dropped it at Betty's feet and she stared at him in shock, her mouth agape. No way a dog, or any animal for that matter, could be so intelligent.

"Know any tricks, boy?" she asked as she picked the carton up from the cracked tarmac. The dog barked twice more and was silent.

"Up?" Betty asked, and the dog sat upright on his back legs.

"Shake?" A paw offered to her.

"Play dead." He flopped onto his side and lay very still. She even nudged him with her foot and still, no response. Betty couldn't help but laugh aloud, and the dog bounded up to lick her face several times, whining with happiness. "That's a good boy! Good dog! C'mon, let's finish our walk."

Concord was about a half-hour walk from Sanctuary Hills, more than enough time for Betty to tear open the carton of cigarettes and inhale the scent of tobacco, something she hadn't smelled or touched since she finished law school. She stuffed the carton into the knapsack Codsworth gave her and made a mental note to look for some matches or a lighter of sorts. At this point, a blow torch would've sufficed.

Gunfire erupted ahead of Betty and her new-found pup as they arrived in Concord. The heavy shots pierced the humble, quiet morning and the Sole Survivor, wanting to keep that title a bit longer, rushed into what she hoped was an empty house and tried to drag the dog along by the scruff. He wanted to fight, and fought against Betty every step that brought them closer towards the collapsed home. "C'mon! If you go out there, you won't be a dog anymore, just dog meat!"

Betty gasped as the dog broke free of her hold and ran around the corner, barking madly. It was then it dawned on her, the perfect name for that crazy hound. The gun shots grew louder and closer together. There was no way she'd make it out here in the wasteland. Not by a long shot and not without help. She pulled out her 10mm and gave it a once over before she let out a heavy sigh. It was all she had since the gun she found on the corpse was empty and she could've sworn she heard automatic fire for a moment. Betty considered abandoning a fight she hadn't even witnessed until she heard the dog cry out with pain. No time to be afraid now, not when her new friend needed her. She ran around the corner and saw Dogmeat laying in street, panting, with a scrawny, nasty looking man wearing a metal cage around his head about to bring down a cedar baseball bat right onto the pup's head.

"Dogmeat!" Betty shouted. It was enough to rip the attention away from her dog and cast it upon her instead. The man ran towards Betty, screaming his head off as he raised the bat above his head once more. She took aim with uncontrollable, shaky hands and squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew and struck the crazed man in the chest and he fell back, clutching his wound with a scream.

Betty whistled and Dogmeat staggered to his feet with a whine and hobbled over to her. "Don't worry boy, I'll have something," she said as she looked through the knapsack. She found a stimpak and jabbed the thin needle into Dogmeat's shoulder. Within seconds, Dogmeat took off at full speed towards the Museum of Freedom down the street, where the firefight was much more intense.

"Damn it, what are you doing?" she shouted, taking chase after him.

Betty passed the first man she had ever shot in her life and glanced down at his wound. One of his lungs must have been punctured, as his breath was sharp and haggard, but there was no sympathy on Betty's part. It was obvious that a man who had no qualms with bashing a dog's head in, or hers, was not worthy of the precious air he tried in vain to breathe. And so, Betty aimed at his head with a grim face and closed her eyes when she pulled the trigger. It was done. Not even a day in this shithole world and she killed someone.

There wasn't much time to think about her guilt and she pressed on. A man stood on the balcony of the museum and he seemed astonished to see Betty as he picked off the allies of the bastard Betty killed. "Hey! Up here on the balcony!" he shouted. "I've got a group of settlers inside and the raiders are about to reach us! Grab another gun and help us, please!"

Something about the desperation in his voice stirred something in Betty. He didn't know her and it was obvious she wasn't great with a pistol but he called on her for help regardless. Maybe if she helped them, they could help her find Shaun, or at least point her in the right direction. Dogmeat barked and pulled on Betty's arm toward the museum. "All right boy, let's do our best in there. Lead the way."

Dogmeat lunged for the raider closest to the doors while another slammed a pool cue onto his back. Dogmeat shook his head violently and tore the arm off the raider with the gun. Betty ran over and slammed the butt of her 10mm pistol into the back of the last raider's head and knocked him out cold. Again, as she did before, Betty closed her eyes when she delivered the final shot to end his life.

"This can't be happening," Betty said to herself as she bashed the door of the museum in with her shoulder. It was a bit unnerving for her, that such behavior came with ease. She didn't have any more room for thoughts such as those, when a bullet pierced her upper arm. The pistol fell from her hands as she reached to put pressure on the wound and ducked behind an overturned desk for cover. "Dogmeat, I need you!"

The German Shepard knocked over another raider in his haste to reach his new owner and licked Betty's cheek with a whimper. She expected to wound to be more painful but figured she was too worked up with fear and adrenaline to feel much of anything.

"Where'd that little bitch go?" a raider shouted. "Make sure we kill that fuckin' dog, too!"

Betty grabbed onto Dogmeat's scruff and he dragged her into a room a few feet away that she didn't notice during the fight. She found a somewhat clean rag on the floor of this room filled with mannequins and tied off her arm enough to stop any bleeding. Betty scratched Dogmeat behind his ears and asked, "I dropped my gun out there, could you get it for me?"

The Sole Survivor couldn't help but chuckle a bit when her dog returned to her, dragging a decrepit combat rifle by the strap. The stairs leading to the second floor of the museum had partially collapsed into the basement. Dogmeat trotted up to a barred door beside a computer terminal and whined.

"Something important in there?" Betty asked him. She pulled on the door handle but it was locked. She looked over at the terminal and wondered if she'd be able to hack it. Her experience with computers was a bit more than most, even in a pre-war sense, but she never hacked into a system before. Several bobby pins sat atop of the terminal and Betty smiled before she began twisting one of the pins into the lock, a habit from her wilder days of youth. The door swung open and she took what appeared to be a fuse from a generator and put it in her pack. Maybe she could trade it somewhere, if it was worth anything.

With Dogmeat's help, Betty managed to get to the top floor of the museum, the bodies of three more raiders in their wake. A door creaked open and Betty lifted the rifle to her shoulder, expecting yet another fight. Instead, she was greeted by the warm smile of the man from the balcony who asked for her aid.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but your timing's impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen," said the man from the balcony. He and Betty shook hands before he beckoned her into the small room. A couple about Betty's age huddled together in a corner of the room, the man sobbing quietly into the woman's shoulder. A blue-collar sort typed away on a computer, smoking a cigarette. An old woman sat on a chair beside the desk, her eyes closed.

"Glad to help. I'm Elizabeth Parker, but everyone calls me Betty."

Preston handed Betty a bottle of water and a stimpak before saying, "Well if that's true, we could use some more good will. As you can see, we're in a bit of a mess here."

"The world's changed so much," she answered, injecting the medicine into her arm. "None of this makes sense. Is it always this insane out here?"

Preston raised his eyebrow and looked her over for any injuries he may not have noticed. "You all right? Listen, we need your help and then maybe we can help you, huh? What brought you out here?"

"My baby Shaun's been kidnapped. He's not even a year old."

"That's messed up, I'm sorry. I know how this world could be. A month ago, there were twenty of us. Yesterday, there were eight. Now we're five. First it was the feral ghouls in Lexington and now this mess."

"Ghouls? What are ghouls?" Betty asked.

"Wow, you really aren't from around here, aren't you? Ghouls are...irradiated people. Most are just like you and me. They look pretty messed up, but they're still just people. They're not favored in the Commonwealth, but the ones I'm talking about are different. The radiation rotted their brains and made them feral. They'll rip you apart just as soon as look at you. Anyway, we figured Concord would be a safe place to settle, but those raiders proved us wrong. But, well, we _do_ have one idea," explained Preston.

"One good idea can make all the difference," said Betty with a pat on Dogmeat's head. "Like Dogmeat, here."

Preston smiled and said, "Sturges? Tell her."

The man at the computer turned around to face Betty and they shook hands before he gave his explanation. "All right friend, there's a crashed vertibird up on the roof. Pre-war, you might've seen it. Looks like one of its passengers left behind a real goody. We're talking a full suit of cherry T-45 power armor, military issue."

Betty shook her head and said in a low voice, "This is crazy."

Sturgis laughed and added, "Oh, I ain't done yet. You get the suit and rip a minigun right off the vertibird. Do that and the raiders get an express ticket to hell, ya dig?"

"That's a suicide mission. What makes you think I can do this? I haven't even been out here a day...I...I never even killed anyone until just now!" Betty said.

Preston looked at his boots and said, "I'm the only one who can fight but I can't leave my people alone. If it's true that you've never killed anyone before, well, I'm sorry to say that you're going to have to get used it. This is how it is out here. If you don't shoot first, you're dead. I can provide cover fire for you from the balcony."

Betty was about to answer when Sturgis snapped, "Look new gal, don't know what cave you're from, don't care. But you need to shake off the cobwebs and smell the cordite or we're all dead anyway. You'll need a fusion core to get the suit going again-"

She pulled the cylinder she found downstairs from her pack and held it out to Sturgis before she answered, "Is that what this is?"

"Well all right!", Preston said with a smile as he clapped a hand on Betty's good shoulder. "Looks like our luck is finally turning around. Those raiders are going to find out they picked the wrong fight. Good luck."

Turning to leave, her heart pounding wildly out of control, Betty told Dogmeat to stay behind and made her way towards the room Preston pointed out. Was she really doing this? She kept asking herself that over and over. It was almost as if she were watching someone else who looked just like her live out an action movie. She was a lawyer, not a soldier. Out here in the Commonwealth, however, lawyers weren't needed because justice was dealt by the people themselves with swift violence. What she needed to be from now on was a soldier. A soldier of fortune, a soldier of war, whatever it took. To live in this world, avenge her husband, and find her beloved child, Betty had to grow a backbone. One made out of steel, preferably.

Betty opened the door to the museum roof and there sat the ruined vertibird, teetering precariously on the roof's edge, along with the suit of power armor Sturges mentioned. Gunfire began and that was her cue to get going.

"God help me, I might die out there," Betty whispered. Her nerves overwhelmed her body and she sank to the cracked floor, leaning against what was left of a wall, shivering. "I can't do this..I can't, what the hell am I thinking? I'm not a soldier! I'm not Nate!"

"Betty, let's go!" she heard Preston shout above the noise.

She stood up and with nervous hands, pushed the fusion core into the back of the power armor. She turned a circular, metal wheel and the suit opened with a hiss. She jumped back, falling over a few cardboard boxes. "All righty, didn't expect that," she said to herself. "Wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't-

"-C'mon Betty, get out there!" Preston shouted again in a more fearful voice.

Betty held her breath and climbed into the power armor and exhaled loudly as it closed around her. The helmet's glass display lit up and showed Betty her vitals along with a compass. Just ahead of her, the display highlighted the minigun on the other side of the vertibird and Betty took a tentative step onto the bird itself. The aircraft shook with each step and she reached down, wondering how the hell anyone expected her to literally tear a minigun off its platform. She wrapped her hands around the gun and pulled anyway, the gun ripping from its platform with ease.

"Huh, didn't expect that, either," she muttered.

"BETTY!" Preston screamed at full-force. "We're not gonna make it!"

A raider perked up at the sound of Preston's voice from the roof across the street and whooped while he shot at the lumbering idiot in that broken power armor he'd seen earlier. Betty had enough of being shot at her first day in this new Commonwealth and took aim at the raider, the display highlighting the outline of his figure, before unleashing all hell with a roaring spray of bullets from the minigun. The raider was obliterated in seconds, but so was the ledge Betty chose to stand on. It broke out from beneath her and there was no time for fear or any thoughts at all as she tumbled toward the ground and crashed into the tarmac with a loud bang. She sat up, adrenaline fueling her rage, and picked up the minigun off the sidewalk before marching into the fight.

Betty squeezed the trigger and let the minigun do its work as she swept the street clean of the remaining raiders. There was no denying it; this felt fucking incredible. It must've been what Nate felt when he walked the battlefield, and she hoped he would be proud of her at this very moment. Several raiders faced her wrath when the loudest roar Betty ever heard emanated from below the street. About twenty feet ahead of her, the ground crumbled and a massive, clawed hand reached out.

She took a step back and nearly fainted when a gargantuan creature lifted itself straight from the depths of Hell and roared at the blue sky. Two gnarled, curled horns grew out from the top of the creature's head, the scales on its lizard-like body the size of Betty's hands. The creature stood upright and a raider Betty had missed, ran out from behind a building screaming, giving the monster every thing he had with his shotgun. The shells did little to faze this creature and it swatted the raider away without effort, tearing his body into several pieces. And here she thought taking the bar exam was the scariest thing she ever experienced.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! RUN!" Betty heard Preston scream.

It was too late; the creature fixed its eyes on Betty and charged as she screamed, pulling the trigger of her minigun. The beast reached down mid-run and grabbed a handful of rocks and dirt, throwing them in Betty's direction. She ducked and took aim again. The beast slammed into her, sending them both to the ground and the minigun was kicked out of reach. It grabbed Betty's helmet and roared in her face; she could count every single razor sharp tooth in its mouth. She kicked as hard as she could and her armored foot found the creature's soft belly. It reared back with a howl of pain and Betty scrambled away from underneath it. Just as she got her hands on the minigun again, the beast grabbed her ankle and tossed her across the street with little effort. Betty slammed into the building, pieces of the power armor strewn about. In a daze, she managed to drag the minigun into her lap and shoot at the beast's legs as it turned to attack her again. The bullets did their job and crippled the monster enough to slow it down. Clip empty, she stood up and staggered towards her foe, who lashed out at her with a clawed hand.

"Fuck..you..." she said before crushing the beast's head in with the minigun.

Betty looked up at the balcony and saw the five settlers and Dogmeat, who watched the scene below them unfold with awe. Preston and the others cheered, raising their fists in victory. She had to smile and she did, waving to the settlers before she collapsed, exhausted and unresponsive.


	3. Coming for You

There _was_ a light...and what a brilliant light it was. Betty tried to call out her husband's name, but she had no voice. No matter, she had to keep trying.

"Hey, she's comin' out of it!" she heard someone whisper from far away.

Betty could feel it. Nate was just within reach. She couldn't wait to see his handsome face, those beautiful green eyes, and run her hands through his dark blonde hair. She called out his name again and this time, she found her voice.

"Nate!" Betty shouted.

Why was the light fading? Of course it was fading...she killed those raiders, the ones who weren't even fighting her at first until she turned her pistol on them. Light couldn't shine for one with a cold, dark heart. She fell, down into a black abyss. There was no escape. The Sole Survivor reached out in desperation, searching for something, for someone to save her from this fall.

"It's all right, Betty," an unfamiliar voice murmured. "We're here to help you now."

"No! No, no!" She lashed out with her fists and kicked out with her legs, but several hands appeared to hold her down. "Get away from me!"

"-She's gonna hurt herself, someone get me a Calmex! Betty, can you hear me?"

Betty's eyes ripped open, her heart almost pounding right out of her chest. She looked around, her vision still a bit fuzzy, and counted five figures surrounding her. A hand touched her shoulder and she flinched. A kind voice spoke and it was then that she recognized it. As her vision returned, she saw that she was in her old bedroom. Codsworth must've told the settlers that this was her house.

"You're safe at home," Preston told Betty. "Your Mr. Handy's been worried sick about you. We all were."

"W-what happened? After I killed that...monster," she asked him. " _Did_ I kill it?"

Dogmeat rushed in at the sound of Betty's voice, leaping onto the bed and slobbered all over her face. Betty wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his snout, telling him over and over again what a good boy he was.

Preston and the other settlers chuckled before he answered, "Indeed you did. That was a Deathclaw, the most dangerous creature out in the Commonwealth. You passed out afterwards. We thought you were dead and when we opened what was left of the power armor, there you were, still breathing. Figured the fight took a lot out of you so we carried you over to Sanctuary. Dogmeat led the way. That robot of yours was going to attack us until he noticed you hanging over my shoulder."

"How long was I out for?" Betty asked.

"Almost a week."

Codsworth jetted into view, shoving past Preston. "Oh, mum! I'm ever so glad you're all right! I thought I lost you all over again!"

"Still here...some how.." Betty said. "That power armor is amazing. Was it destroyed?"

Preston nodded his head and answered, "The frame is good, but all the pieces broke off during your, uh, wrestling match with that deathclaw. The fusion core is almost out of power as well, so you'd have to repair the armor and find more cores."

Betty sat up and tried to stand but her legs were far too shaky still and she almost took a fall if Preston's quick hand didn't find its way to her arm. He set her on the bed and said, "Where are you going? You're in no condition to get out of bed, much less face the brutality of the Commonwealth."

"I need to find my son!" Betty said as she tried to push Preston aside.

The old woman who traveled with Preston's small group of settlers shuffled into the room, holding a bowl and a clean rag. She dipped the rag into the bowl of hot water and began to dab at the cuts and scrapes peppered across Betty's arms. "There's more to your destiny. I've seen it, and I know your pain."

"You saw it? What do you mean?" asked Betty. "Who are you?"

"The name's Mama Murphy." The old woman turned to the others huddled in the room and said, "Outta here, all of you."

Preston nodded and gathered the others to leave, including an irritated Codsworth who shouted, "But mum needs me!" as the door closed. Dogmeat curled up around Betty's feet and settled down with a huff to sleep.

"It's the chems, kid. The give ole Mama Murphy the 'Sight.' Been that way for as long as I can remember."

"What's the 'Sight?'"

"I can see a bit of what was, and what will be. And even what is, right now. You're a woman out of time. Out of hope. But all is not lost. I can feel...your son's energy. He's alive."

"Where? Where's Shaun!" Betty asked, squeezing Mama Murphy's wrinkled hands. "Please tell me!"

"Oh, I wish I did kid, I really do. But I can't see your son...just...feel his life force, his energy. But I don't even need the Sight to tell you where you should start lookin'...the great, green jewel of the Commonwealth. Diamond City."

"Where is it? I'll leave right now," said Betty.

"You need to stay here a while, and get strong again. Stronger than before, to survive out there, kid. Help Preston with the Minutemen. They could use someone like you, and Preston'll teach you whatever you ain't sure of. But if you leave now, you...and Dogmeat here, will die within the week. Please...you're meant for so much more."

"All right. I guess it's for the best, huh? I won't do Shaun any good if I'm dead...at least he's still alive."

* * *

Nearly two months passed since Betty recovered from her battle against a deathclaw. She was unexperienced, frightened, and filled with a rage that just wouldn't quit. Now, as she surveyed the Starlight Drive-In settlement, Preston down below her dragging another ancient, rusted car out with the help of three new settlers, she was a little more experienced, a little less frightened, but the rage still remained.

She glanced down at her Pip-boy. Almost six in the evening. Cleaning up the rest of this settlement would have to wait until tomorrow. Traveling at night was never the best move to make, unless one was fond of being shot or eaten. Sometimes both.

Betty cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, "Garvey! Time to go home!"

She rushed down the rickety, wooden stairs of the massive outdoor movie screen, her combat rifle banging into the backs of her knees with every step. Preston met her at the bottom of the stairs and she jumped the last step, snatching the hat off his head and plopping down onto hers instead. Her friend laughed and waved for the other, newer settlers to follow Betty and himself.

"This was a great spot you found, Bets. We could build something on par with Diamond City, I think," Preston said as they walked down the worn path back to Sanctuary Hills.

"You're going to have to start that project without me," Betty told him. "I think I'm ready to look for Shaun."

Preston nodded and was silent for a moment before he replied, "I think you're ready as well. Getting all of these settlements together really helped, both you and the Minutemen. We're lucky to have you."

Betty laughed and said, "I'm not too sure about that. You and Dogmeat saved my ass more times than I can count. Remember that one raider, Ack-Ack? Pinned me in that little hallway with her minigun?"

"Yeah and you were shouting out directions for me to hack the turrets, heh. You've gotten pretty good at that, you know?"

"Thanks, brother," Betty said with flushed cheeks.

The group arrived back at Sanctuary Hills just in time for Codsworth to serve dinner. Betty mentioned to Codsworth her plans to leave the settlement the following morning, and asked him to make something enjoyable for everyone. The settlers depended on her and Preston to keep everything running smoothly, but she knew he could manage it on his own until she found Shaun. Once she found him, she'd bring him back to Sanctuary Hills and rejoin the Minutemen and their cause to rebuild the wasteland. It could even be a pleasant sort of life for Shaun and herself. Nate would still be gone, but at the very least, she and her boy would still have one another.

During dinner, Preston explained and delegated the different tasks for the settlers regarding the Starlight settlement. Cars still needed to be scrapped. Codsworth would help remove the two radioactive barrels that lay at the edge of a pond. Marcy would work on the garden. It was all coming together quite nicely, and as much as Betty wanted to help and see the growth of this settlement herself, Shaun still weighed on her mind.

* * *

The next morning, Betty packed all the things Preston said she'd need for her trip to Diamond City. Stimpaks, extra ammo, a handgun, a switchblade, among other things. She wrote a note for the settlers late last night before bed, explaining where she'd gone and that she would return once she finds Shaun. Grabbing her combat rifle off her desk, she took one last look around the room she once shared with Nate and peeked into Shaun's room next.

"I'm coming, sweetie. Hold on a little longer," she whispered to the emptiness.

The sun was just breaking past the horizon. Most everyone would still be asleep, dreaming in peace. That was not the case this particular morning. At Sanctuary's entrance, all of the settlers, Dogmeat, and Codsworth were waiting for Betty with words of comfort, praise, and encouragement. She had to smile, at this...family she grew to care for so much.

Preston saluted Betty and she followed suit before he said, "Good luck out there, Betty. We gathered some extra caps for you. Money talks and opens a lot of doors in the Commonwealth. You could always use more."

"Thanks, brother. You're going to do great watching over these settlements. You don't need me," said Betty as they hugged. "As always, I'll help whoever I come across out there, and try to get them to join the Minutemen."

"We'll be stronger when you do come back with your son," he replied. "Maybe we'll even try to take back the old Minutemen stronghold, the Castle."

Codsworth was next to say his goodbyes, which consisted of him sobbing and trying to wrap his appendages around Betty to hug her. Dogmeat sat beside Codsworth, his tail a blur.

"Hey boy," Betty said to the dog as she squatted down. "You stay here and help Preston, all right? Make sure nothing happens to anyone. I'll be back soon. I love you, you're such a good boy, yeah?"

She hugged Dogmeat as tight as she could; Betty could never bear to lose him out in the wasteland, even if he was useful and tough.

Mama Murphy was the last to say goodbye. She handed Betty a small bag of stimpaks and rad-away, who thanked her with a hug.

"Before you leave, I wanna tell you what the Sight showed me as I woke up. You will meet two men during this journey to the green jewel but they ain't gonna be the kind of men you expect. A glowing heart leads the way to the one who can help find your boy. The other man is somewhere deep and dark, surrounded by folks with nothin' but cruel intentions. His love for you, and yours for him, will keep you from the brink of death and lead you to your destiny. And there's an echo...something in the past that can help you. When you find that the green jewel won't allow passage, tell the man at the gate to "remember the Quarry and Lilly June on the rocks," and he'll let you and your love pass."

"I'll never love anyone else," Betty told Mama Murphy with certainty. "Not after Nate."

"The Sight ain't never lied to me yet. You're still young and there's always room for more love. You'll see."

Betty hugged the old woman and whispered, "Thank you so much, Mama. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Follow the old highways east into Downtown. It's somewhere there!" Preston shouted as they all waved their last goodbyes to the Sole Survivor.

Betty waved back and took a deep breath before crossing the lop-sided bridge. "I'm coming for you, baby. And when I find out who took you, I'm going to kill them."


	4. Man of the People

**Hey guys! Two chapters for you today! I had this one written out for quite some time and finally, FINALLY, we can have that Hancock goodness most of us wanted, haha. Thanks for favoriting, reviewing, and following!**

* * *

"Good..neighbor? After being out there for a week, I sure hope so," Betty said to herself. She whispered a silent prayer that despite Downtown Boston being reduced to nothing but a crumbling skyline and a hotbed for psychotic humans and monsters alike, there were plenty of places to stow away if the fight was too great. Supplies weren't too common, much to Betty's surprise, but if one knew where to look or was pretty handy with a bobby pin, there was little to worry about in that regard. With all the hiding and running away, Betty was pretty sure she was lost, but she believed Diamond City mustn't be too far away.

The neon signs of Goodneighbor lit up the street with gaudy colors of red, yellow, and blue. Night came quickly during Boston's winters, and at the very least, that hadn't changed. Traditional winters from pre-war times were wiped away when the bombs fell and released their poisonous radiation clouds. Now, winter in post-apocalyptic Boston was nothing but chilly winds and ferocious, radioactive thunderstorms.

Betty hoped she didn't have to pay some sort of toll to enter the town like she was forced to do a couple of hours ago before she crossed a bridge. She didn't have much of a choice, with five raiders pointing their handmade pipe pistols and rifles at her head. She was forced to give them most of her caps and all of her stimpaks, Rad-Away, and Rad-X. Upon reaching the entrance of Goodneighbor, Betty was relieved to find that only a blue door stood between her and relative safety. Maybe she could sleep in a quiet alley, somewhere hidden and tucked away.

Once she was inside, she breathed out a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived, when a bald man in a worn, leather jacket approached her. She gripped her rifle in her hands until her knuckles turned white.

"Hold up there," said the man. "First time in Goodneighbor? Can't walk around without insurance."

Betty, however, was sick and tired of everyone who came across her trying to take advantage. It was sickening, that so many people were cruel to those with no will or means to fight back. Besides, fighting in close quarters always made her nervous, but she had to stand up for herself...or at least try to.

"Unless it's 'keep-dumb-assholes-away-from-me' insurance, I'm not interested," she said with a scoff. The man curled his fists and took a step closer to Betty.

* * *

"Boss?" Fahrenheit asked the self-proclaimed mayor of Goodneighbor. She looked around to see what held his scrutiny so well, considering there wasn't much that interested him, until her eyes fell upon a young woman clutching the strap of her knapsack, a combat rifle dangling from her shoulder and her long black hair piled in a knot on the back of her head. She was quite pretty, but a bit thin and unsure of herself. "Of course, a new girl. Why am I not surprised?"

The ghoul had his head tilted a bit to the side, his tricorn hat perched on his forehead. He held up one finger to his bodyguard and brought it to his lips, shushing her.

"You promised you'd cut back with the Med-X. Makes you jumpy and that makes _me_ jumpy."

"Would ya give me a sec? Tryin' to eavesdrop a little here, god damn," said the ghoul.

Fahrenheit shook her head and said, "It's just Finn pulling his extortion bit on the new blood."

"Not that shit again."

The ghoul tossed his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot. As he walked away, ready to show this new blood what his town was made of, Fahrenheit quipped, "If she's of the feminine persuasion, send her my way, would you? I've screwed all the girls that'd have me here."

He muttered under his breath, "You and me both, sister."

"Now, don't be like that," the bald man said to Betty with a hiss. "I think you're gonna like what I have on offer..you hand over everything you got and 'accidents' won't start happening to ya. Big...bloody accidents."

Betty didn't really listen to what the thug said, distracted by a figure headed in their direction. She froze as he came into the light, the fibrous skin on his hands and face marring whatever good looks he may have had once, if ever; she wasn't sure. He wasn't much taller than she was, although most people were taller than Betty on a good day. The hat and red frock coat were distracting enough on their own, but put them both on a man who looked like him and even Betty couldn't tear her gaze away.

"Whoa, whoa. Time out," the scarred man interrupted with a wave of his arms. "Someone steps through the front gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap."

The bald man rolled his eyes and said, "What d'you care? She ain't one of us."

"No love for your mayor, Finn?" the scarred man said. He crossed his arms behind his back and directed a kind smile towards Betty before looking back at Finn. "I said let her go."

"You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor," said Finn.

Betty fought between turning around and going elsewhere or staying out of respect for the scarred man who came to her defense. If she weren't so exhausted, the choice would've been easy.

The man in the red coat closed the gap between himself and Finn, and put an arm around his shoulder. "C'mon, man. This is _me_ we're talkin' about. Let me tell you something."

He glanced at Betty with his dark eyes and gave her a smirk before he pulled a knife from behind his back and stabbed Finn in the gut twice before he crumpled to the ground. Betty swallowed the gasp that formed in her throat and took a step back as the woman the scarred man was speaking with before whooped and clapped her hands.

"Nice one!" she called out as she gave the scarred man a thumb's up. What the hell kind of town was this?

The scarred man stood above a fallen Finn, bending down to wipe the blade on Finn's jacket. "I'm soft, eh? Now look at ya. Still think I'm soft, Finn? Why'd ya have to say that? Breakin' my heart over here."

Finn was on the verge of bleeding out and reached up for the scarred man with a gasp. The man kicked Finn's hand away with amusement. Betty on the other hand, couldn't stand to watch anyone suffer, even a shithead like this Finn. She took aim with her rifle and shot Finn in the head to put him out of his misery. The scarred man didn't move a single inch and his black eyes bore into hers. He was fearless and out here in the wasteland, Betty discovered that any who were fearless were also the most dangerous.

"You all right, sister? " the scarred man asked Betty in a low, gentle voice.

"Oh, sure. It's not every day I get mugged and then witness a murder right in front of me."

"You obviously haven't been living it up enough," he said, "But we won't judge you for that here."

Betty was always the type to blurt out whatever she thought, which had gotten her in hot water many times before the war. Her late husband used to say it was one of the many things that drew him to her, her lack of a filter. This particular moment was no different.

"You...you're a ghoul?" she asked. Betty's mouth formed a thin line when she realized how awfully rude she sounded. He looked nothing like the feral ghouls she encountered with Preston near their settlements. "You don't look like the others I've seen out here."

"Like it? I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kinda look. Big hit with the ladies. This whole town's filled with more rad freaks like me, so I'd keep those sorta questions on the low burner next time," the scarred man explained. "Goodneighbor's of the people, for the people, you feel me? Everyone's welcome, includin' yourself. "

"Meant no offense, I apologize. I know this is going to sound strange but I'm, uh, pretty sure you're used to that. I've been frozen in a vault since the bombs fell so...I'm not really sure what's going on now. I've seen a lot of weird shit the past few weeks while searching for my son. This is all difficult to comprehend."

"Ridin' those chems a little too hard?" he asked with a laugh.

"What? No, it's...a long story. Is there somewhere I can stay a few nights?"

"I could give you a tour if you'd like. Town's small so it won't take long." The ghoul, as he called himself, stuck out his hand and said, "The name's Mayor John Hancock."

"I'm Betty, uh, Elizabeth Parker." She smiled as the ghoul took her hand in his rough one and kissed it before she asked, "Wait, you're John Hancock..the famous American patriot and smuggler? Biggest signature on the constitution John Hancock?"

"The very same," Hancock answered with a bow. "Consider this town your home away from home...so long as you remember who's in charge."

"All...right..." she answered. "You're obviously insane because he's been dead for like, almost five hundred years now, but all right. Tour me."

"Oh, I know I'm gonna like you," said Mayor Hancock with a hearty laugh. He offered his arm to Betty, who hesitated. It wasn't that she didn't want to touch him in particular, she just didn't want anyone to touch her. She was sick of being frightened all the time, but this was her life now and she had to get used to it. The ghoul noticed her hesitation and was about to lower his arm but grinned when Betty sighed and looped her thin arm through his.

"I don't bite unless ya ask me to," whispered Hancock and before Betty could react to his shameless flirtation, the tour began. "Check it out, softskin. Said you were lookin' for a place to hit the sack, right? If ya don't mind sharing space, the big building right there," the ghoul turns and points out what looked like the Old State House, "is my home, but the top and bottom floors are open to anyone who can't afford a private room at the Hotel Rexford."

Betty craned her neck and looked up at the Old State House and the skyscrapers beyond, many of which were shattered and crumbling to the ground. The fact that many of the buildings were still standing at all was a miracle in itself.

"I used to come here when I was little but it was called Scollay Square back then," said Betty.

"You really did come from a vault, didn't ya? Not a lot of folks know shit like that anymore," he said.

Hancock walked them over to Kleo and Daisy's shops and points at the signs. "These are the stores of Goodneighbor. May not look like much, but we got everything you'll need and then some. Kleo runs 'Kill or Be Killed.' Any sort of weaponry and armor you can imagine. Daisy on the right sells everything else. Food, chems, scrap, and some ammo and lesser guns Kleo won't sell. Daisy's a ghoul like me, pre-war though, and Kleo's an assaultron. Don't piss either of them off. Ain't nothin' I can do for ya then."

They passed a doorway that led to a bar owned by Hancock himself, called the Third Rail, and he led Betty to the next public area. "That's the Hotel Rexford and our beloved Memory Den. For a shit-ton of caps, you can relive any of your fondest memories."

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, I go in maybe once every month or two. Don't go under too often; you'll either go broke or insane. Sometimes both at the same time," he warned.

"Tell me more about your town, Mayor Hancock."

"It's all about the people, understand? They're freaks, misfits, and troublemakers, and that's why I love 'em. Everyone here lives their own life, their own way. No judgments."

There wasn't anything wrong with that, Betty thought, and Goodneighbor wasn't burnt to the ground yet so somehow it worked. She had no plans to make this her home forever, but as the mayor put it, it could be home away from home while she traveled through downtown Boston. She realized that Mayor Hancock had led her back to where they began the tour and she thanked him with sincerity. The ghoul leaned forward as he bid her good-bye and tweaked her chin, a smirk on his face as Betty froze in place.

"Check ya later, softskin," he said in a low voice.

Hancock ambled back over to Fahrenheit, proud that he managed to snag more than a simple 'hello' out of the softskin. He still had it. If only he could charm her right out of those clothes..

"So what's the verdict, boss? Can I call dibs?" Fahrenheit asked as she leaned over Kleo's counter.

"Naw, we're both shit outta luck with that one. She's too worked up lookin' for her son. Said she was frozen in a vault."

"That sounds more like an excuse than anything else," Fahrenheit said.

"Can't win 'em all. I know when to fold."

"Losing your charm, eh? There goes that flawless record of yours, Boss. What were you at again?" his bodyguard asked with a chuckle. "Not that it matters now."

"It's either 12 or 13 new dames in a row, but I can't remember if I bagged both of them twins or the same one twice."

"Silence, she's walking this way," Kleo murmurs.

Betty walked by, with a polite nod for Fahrenheit and Kleo who returned the greeting with nods themselves, but shot Hancock a quick smile before heading towards the bar. Hancock gave Betty a half-assed salute and watched her dip around the corner. He leaned on the counter before he said, "Eh, might give it another shot. I ain't no quitter. Oh shi- I got a killer idea. Meet up below the balcony."

The ghoul wedged his hat beneath his arm, jogged towards the Old State House and pushed the door open with his shoulder before disappearing inside.

Betty took her time to watch anyone who walked past her and tried her damndest not to stare at the ghouls, of which were plentiful here in town. They were nothing compared to the monstrous ferals she encountered out in the wasteland, simply unfortunate souls with a run of bad luck. People must be cruel to them and the thought weighed on her heart a bit. A door opened and she peered at a balcony high above her, to see Mayor Hancock walk out and lean against the railing.

"Hey, everyone!" Hancock announced. "Gather 'round! Let's kick the breeze back...shoot the fat..."

It took a couple of minutes, but soon the area below the balcony had swelled with the citizens of Goodneighbor, eager to listen to the words of their mayor. Betty was forced to stand shoulder to shoulder beside the robot named Kleo and the tall woman who was speaking with Hancock earlier. Her strawberry blonde hair was shaved on one side and the other fell over her eyes. She towered over her and looked down on Betty out of the corner of her eye. Betty swallowed her nerves and prayed that this...amazonian woman didn't murder her for taking a tour with the mayor. Perhaps they were closer than she thought?

Hancock rubbed his hands together and began his impromptu speech. "Now, I know y'all are doing your own thing, but I don't want anyone here to forget what matters..." He looked off to the side and saw his oldest friend shuffle right into the middle of the crowd without a word. "Hey Daisy, glad you could make it, how's my favorite girl doin'? Didn't I see you on a date with Marowski the other day?"

Daisy blew out a cloud of smoke and replied, "He fuckin' wishes!"

Hancock and the crowd erupted with laughter. As strange as it was, Betty admired that Hancock knew all of the townspeople by name and had earned the respect of those who defied all other laws or semblance of order. Yet here they were. What the mayor had to say was more important than anything else and they would listen to him.

"All right, all right, we're getting off track, what was I saying? Oh, that's right! What matters is, we freaks gotta stick together!" Hancock pointed at Betty and added, "Even you, vault girl. You're just as much of a freak as the rest of us here and you know it."

A few drifters turned to look at her, some nodding in agreement and others not caring much for what they saw. All Betty wanted to do was melt away into a puddle but Hancock spoke again and she was forgotten.

"And the best way to stick together is to keep an eye out for what drives us apart, you feel me?" the ghoul continued.

"You fuckin' tell 'em, Hancock!" someone shouted.

"Now, what out there in that big, friendly Commonwealth would want to drive us apart? What kind of twisted, un-neighborly boogeyman would want to hurt our peaceful community? Huh? Lemme hear it."

"The Institute and their damn synths!" a drifter woman with shouted out.

"That's right, who fuckin' said that? Come on up to my office later, doll, you've earned yourself some Jet."

Betty watched the drifter woman swoon at his words but if it was regarding the free drugs or Mayor Hancock himself, she wasn't sure. She returned her attention back to the balcony and couldn't help but smile. He really did love this town.

"The Institute! They're the real enemies, not the raiders or the super mutants, not even those tools over in Diamond City."

"I dunno, Hancock," said a town guard. "I'd sure love to give McDonough a kick in the ass!"

The people of Goodneighbor jeered; some punched the air with their fists but most shouted that they would rip this McDonough to shreds if they ever saw him again.

"Hey, we all know I got my own personal beef with that lard-head, but stay focused! I want everyone to keep the Institute in mind. When someone starts acting funny, when people start doing things they don't normally do...when family starts pushing you away for no reason, we all know who's behind that kinda shit. The only way to stop it is to stick together. They can't control us if we're not afraid! Now, who's scared of the Institute?"

"NOT US!" the town shouts in unison.

Hancock placed a hand over his heart dramatically before he slammed his fist on the balcony railing. "And which town in the Commonwealth should the Institute not fuck with?"

"GOODNEIGHBOR!" they all cried.

"And who's in charge of Goodneighbor?" Hancock asked as he leaned over the railing with a dark, wicked smile that sent fear racing down Betty's spine.

"HANCOCK! OF THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE!"

"And don't you fuckin' forget it!" The crowd dispersed and Betty was alone and forgotten. Mayor Hancock whistled loudly, gaining her attention. "Didn't mean to pick on ya, I was just tryin' to make a point, you feel me?"

"It's all right, Mayor. Your people love you," she said.

"That they do. Hey, you thirsty, softskin? Hungry?" he asked. She nodded and he said, "Bar right below me. Go on and head in. If anyone bothers ya, tell my bouncer, Ham. He'll teach 'em some manners."

Betty thanked Mayor Hancock for his concern and escaped the last of the blazing sun below ground. The end of the world was over and this one was left in its place. If there was any excuse to get good and properly wasted, it was that. Time to drown a sorrow or two.


	5. Dirty Work

Betty laughed to herself when she stepped through the door and realized the bar was once a subway station back before the war. She had to admit, the people of the wasteland were sharp as tacks and rarely did they let anything go to waste. What would have been little more than trash during her time, was worth more and used more now than ever. Salvage was a big part of life for many, and now a part of Betty's as well. Preston had taught her how to search for and use scrap; now, it was second-nature for her to find something as petty as a broken alarm clock and tuck it into her pack.

The Sole Survivor looked up and noticed another ghoul in a tuxedo, his formal hat doing little to conceal the sour look on his face. Betty smiled and walked towards him. He must be Mayor Hancock's bouncer, Ham. What an odd name. She'd have to ask about it one day.

The ghoul tipped his hat toward Betty and said in a hoarse voice, "Hancock says newcomers are welcome here. Head on downstairs. Let me know if the drifters give you any trouble."

"Is that what usually happens to new people? They get extorted and harassed?" she asked him.

"Sounds about right. Don't bother the other patrons and they should leave you alone."

Betty remembered her college days when she and her friends would paint the town red, and how she learned that tipping the bouncers of particular establishments came with perks and a few good friends. She dug through her pack as he raised his lack of brow, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, and handed him the last of her caps. So she wouldn't get to drown any sorrows tonight, but she might find work instead. Win-win in her eyes.

"Have a good night..Ham, right?" said Betty. The ghoul nodded, still staring at the few caps she placed in his palm and she added, "That tux is sharp, by the way."

Ham looked up and watched Betty shuffle down the walkway, pulling her long, black hair free from its knot. The door opened again and in walked the Mayor, finishing off a jet inhaler with a satisfied grin. He tossed the inhaler in the trashcan beside Ham and gave the bouncer's arm a rough pat.

"How's your night starting off, Hammy boy?" asked Hancock. "Did that looker softskin drop by yet?"

The bouncer nodded in Betty's direction and when Hancock looked up at him again, he confessed, "She gave me some caps," and showed the mayor what he held in his palm.

"Why'd she do that?"

"Dunno, Sir...odd dame, that one."

"I like 'em odd."

"So it seems."

The mayor pat Ham on the shoulder once more and strolled into the Third Rail to cheers and shouts from its patrons. His people did love him, that much was clear. He managed to turn a town of degenerates into a town of solace for the unloved and unwanted. Still, there were moments where he questioned if he was too comfortable in his position of power. Finn had unknowingly hit a nerve when he called Hancock soft. Is that what he was now? He looked among the faces that smiled at him and wondered if any of them would be the ones to attempt mutiny and overthrow him. Hancock was not one to fret about things that haven't even happened yet, and so his dark eyes searched for what he hoped would be his flavor of the week.

Betty waited beside the bar counter, hoping one of the stools would be free soon enough as the room buzzed with clinking glass and laughter; her legs ached worse than usual today and all she wanted to do was just take a load off. A woman in a sparkling, red dress stood up from her seat and tapped Betty's shoulder.

"If you're looking for a seat, you can take mine. It's time for the show anyhow," said the woman.

"What show?" Betty asked.

"Me," said the woman with a wink as she walked to the small stage. The vault girl watched the curvaceous woman take the stage and for a second, thought it would turn into a strip show of sorts, until the woman in the red dress began to belt out a breathy, sensual jazz song instead.

Live music! Betty couldn't believe it and she took the now empty stool and waited for the bartender, a Mr. Handy wearing a bowler cap, to jet over in her direction. There was a flash of red out of the corner of her eye and she saw Mayor Hancock stroll up to the bar with a woman beneath each arm and one at his back, her legs wrapped around his waist as she whispered to him, laughing every few moments. Betty met the mayor's gaze and he gave her a quick smile, returning his attentions to the woman who clung to his right arm.

"Oi! We got beer if you're buyin' and nothin' if you ain't," the Mr. Handy snapped at Betty with a heavy cockney accent.

"Shit, even water costs money?" she asked as she dug through her pack a second time tonight, wondering if she missed a cap or two. She muttered under her breath, "I am so sick of this Commonwealth."

The Mr. Handy held back his retort, ready to berate her before he turned one of his visual sensors to Mayor Hancock, who shook his head slowly. The silent exchange went unnoticed by Betty and the Mr. Handy replied, "..No charge for water, no. Would that be all...Miss?"

"That's all, thank you. What's your name?"

The Mr. Handy replied, "They call me Whitechapel Charlie," as he slammed a bottle of water in front of her.

Betty introduced herself as well and held out her hand towards Charlie, who only looked at her as if she were the absolute dumbest human alive. Her hand retreated back to her lap with a bit of a flush on her cheeks. That was another thing she had to get used to in this newer Commonwealth: the exceptional rudeness. She already lost count as to how many people told her to 'fuck off' since she left the vault months ago. The people of Boston before the war were a little rough, sure, but out here, offering help was a rare event.

"I never thought I'd hear live music again...is it all right to take a table?" she asked.

Charlie glanced at his mayor again and the ghoul nodded his head once.

"Sit anywhere you like, I don't give a damn."

Betty sat at the table closest to the stage and as thirsty as she was, forced herself to sip on her water and enjoy this rare moment of peace.

"Charlie, my man, get everyone a round, would you? Too many bitter faces around here!" Mayor Hancock announced.

The bar roared with its appreciation of a mayor so generous and a crowd gathered near Betty as Whitechapel Charlie handed out bottles of beer. He even set one in front of her, despite his gruffness earlier, and she raised her drink to the mayor along with the other patrons in a toast of appreciation. Hancock climbed onto the bar counter, much to Charlie's anguish, and held his tricorn hat over his chest as he took a bow.

 _Quite the character, this mayor,_ thought Betty. She hesitated for only a moment before taking a sip of her drink, fearing the beer would be horrible and nothing like what she was fond of. The slight, bitter taste washed over her tongue and she had to smile, something she was doing much more since her arrival in Goodneighbor. Beer was still great, thank goodness and for a bunch of criminals and the unwanted, the citizens around her weren't so bad either.

"Now that you're all liquored up, I got a proposition for ya," said Charlie as he hovered over to Betty's table.

"Oh?" she asked.

"..I need a dirty girl to do some dirty, _dirty_ work. Blood on the pavement. Bodies in the ground, that kind of thing. You interested?"

Hancock snickered, drawing Betty's attention away for a moment, until she realized he probably wasn't listening to what went on around him. He did have three woman throwing themselves at his boots.

"I might be," Betty answered. "I'd like to know more before I agree to anything. I can't just kill someone without reason. That's not what I do."

Charlie nodded and explained, "I got a certain anonymous client who's payin' top dollar for a clean up job. Three locations. Snuff everyone inside. No witnesses. Only catch? It's all in town, in the old warehouses, so I can't use my regulars. Too noticeable. That's where you come in. The job's 200 caps, payment after it's done. And don't worry... I'll know when it is."

"I-I'll get it done," Betty answered in a shaky voice.

"You betta. Now get out there an' bust some heads."

Charlie shoved a piece of paper into Betty's hand and hovered back over to Hancock. She finished her drink and left the cap on the table beside the empty bottle as yet another tip. It had to be dark outside by now, and it seemed that most of Goodneighbor gathered in the bar at night. She'd be able to finish up her bit of work for Charlie without anyone noticing her, and so she rushed back to the entrance and out the door.

After watching the softskin leave, Hancock snatched a dish rag from Charlie and smacked the bot's arm with it several times. "You gotta look at me for every question you get around here? Really?"

"How else would you profit, Mayor?" Charlie asked.

"On a newcomer's first day, they get a meal, water, and a chem at no charge. They can switch the chem for more food, but with chems, beggars can't be choosers. Who gives a shit about profit, I'm not hurting for caps."

"Acknowledged, sir."

"Glad to hear it. You know, you've been doin' real nice here. A bar was the way to go." Charlie handed the ghoul a shot and another beer. "Good call offering that softskin the job; that 'dirty girl' bit was fuckin' hilarious. I'd like to see what she can do."

"I'm sure you do, sir."

"Not like _that,_ Charlie." Charlie hovered in silence, his visual sensors narrowed and Hancock added, "All right, you caught me. But the fighting interests me, too. I've been itchin' to get out there again. She gives me a good enough reason, I just might."


	6. Gun for Hire

**Hey all! I hope everyone had a pleasant holiday (surprisingly, I did). I didn't mean for this chapter to be as long as it is, but the quest "The Big Dig" takes so f-ing long to play (and write about, apparently). I'm hoping this I can wrap up that quest by next chapter, which I'll do my best to put up on the site by the middle of the week.**

 **Thanks as always for the follows and likes! Enjoy!**

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Betty staggered out the last of the three warehouses and pulled the bottom of her shirt up to dab at her bleeding, split lip. By tomorrow, most of her legs and arms would be mottled with bruises, not to mention the scrapes and cuts. She wondered if Charlie sent her on this mission knowing she'd have a hard time of it. There was even a moment in the second warehouse when she thought that she might not make it out at all. Thinking about Shaun, about how afraid he must be in this insane, post-nuclear Boston, forced her to fight on; that and she found an ammo box with three frag grenades. Her luck at times was decent but for the most part, it wasn't enough. As much as she wanted to be able to scour the wastes on her own, she needed a bit of help.

It was almost four o'clock in the morning as Betty trudged toward the Third Rail. A tall man in a dark suit bumped into her right shoulder, apologizing when he realized he didn't recognize her face.

"'Scuse me," said the man. "New in town?" Betty nodded and he said, "If you're looking for work with some fuckin' good pay, go down that little alley there. A door's at the end of it and you can get started."

"I know I'm new here, but I'm not stupid. Going down a dark alley is how people get robbed, or worse."

"My boss is just lookin' for some new muscle and you look like a bit of a scrapper with that lip is all. Have a good night."

Betty looked around before peeking around the corner of the alley the man mentioned to her. He was right; nothing at the end of the alley but a door. She kept her hands on her rifle as she walked up to the door, finger resting above the trigger in case this turned out to be a bit more unsavory than usual. As she raised her fist to knock, the peep hole slid open and a pair of cloudy eyes appeared.

"Hey. Looking for work?" asked a raspy woman's voice.

"What kind of work do you offer?"

"It's good work, under the supervision of the best boss you'll ever have, Bobbi No-Nose," said the ghoul woman. "If you don't mind a little manual labor and don't ask too many questions, you're in. I'll give you fifty caps to start. Interested?"

 _Finally, a job that doesn't have me shooting everyone, thank God,"_ thought Betty. "Could you do a bit better than that? I'm a little...broke."

"Fine, take a hundred up front."

"I'm in," said Betty. "I just have to pick up something from a friend and I'll be right back."

The ghoul woman smiled and said, "That's what I like to hear. Come on in after you finish your errand and I'll give you the lowdown."

Betty thanked her and walked over to the Third Rail. She didn't know how Charlie could possibly know if the job was done, but word in Goodneighbor traveled faster than a gasoline fire it seemed. Once inside the bar, Betty dabbed at her split lip again and Ham perked up with mild concern.

"The hell happened to you?" Ham asked as he handed her a handkerchief from his pocket.

She took the hankie with a word of thanks and explained, "I...got into a scrap with some thugs when I was exploring town."

Ham nodded. "Are these the injuries of a winner or a loser?"

She answered with a bit of pride, "Trust me, they look _much_ worse."

"If anyone ever gives you trouble you can't handle yourself, come here and they'll have me to deal with," Ham told Betty.

Betty thanked him, grateful to have another friend watching her back and walked down the steps to get her caps from Charlie. The bar was almost empty, with some of the locals slumped over their tables, drinks spilled or knocked to the floor, jet inhalers and used needles scattered by the overflowing trashcans. She shook her head; this place would be hell to clean up night after night.

Hancock, who was about to turn in for the evening, saw the new softskin hobble in. A bit roughed up, but she was alive and kicking. The more he saw of her, the more interesting she became. He could tell she was wound up a bit too fucking tight and maybe a bit _too_ sweet for his liking, but the way she held herself when she walked gave off an air of determination. She was a fuckin' fighter, he could tell.

He liked that in a woman.

Whitechapel Charlie tossed the bag of caps towards Betty and told her, "Not bad for some new blood. My client is grateful for your help getting rid of those rat bastards."

"Thank _you_ for these caps. I hate to take them and run, but I have another job offer and I don't think she's the type to leave waiting," said Betty, "And I still have to clean up a bit."

"Like I give a damn if you stay 'ere or not," Charlie said with a huff. "Unless you were gonna buy some beer."

"I'll come back tomorrow night and buy two," she assured him before she rushed up the stairs to the ladies room. Hopefully, they had soap.

"She? What dame would give the softskin work at this hour?" Hancock said to himself. The revelation hit him right then and he shouted out, "MacCready! Get out here!"

"Tryin' to sleep here, Mayor!" a man's voice shouted back from inside the VIP room.

"I'll get your tab cleared with Charlie, now get out here!"

"But..Sir!" Whitechapel Charlie shouted. "MacCready's tab is well over 500 caps!"

Hancock waved off the robot and said, "Give the damn kid a break and squash the fuckin' tab if he takes the job."

A young man shuffled out of the VIP room as he yawned into an old army cap before setting it back on his head. His duster was a bit too large for him, and dried blood stained the left shoulder, a reminder of his last injury. If it were not for Hancock's interference, MacCready would be a dead man. He owed the ghoul and although he drank enough beer tonight to kill a brahmin, he'd still be the best hired gun one could buy.

MacCready pat Hancock's shoulder and sat beside him at the bar. "How's the coolest mayor in the Commonwealth?"

"Drunk, high, and fuckin' tired. Listen, I know you noticed that new softskin gal, everyone has," Hancock began. "She might be gettin' mixed up with some bad shit."

"Black hair, blue eyes, and skin way too perfect for this wasteland?" MacCready asked. The ghoul nodded and the young man added, "She must be another vault girl. Met one of those in the Capital Wasteland. She was...a little insane. Bloodthirsty, too."

"Well this dame ain't either of those things and that's what bothers me. You keep an eye on her. Don't interfere unless she ain't gonna make it, ya dig?" Hancock explained. "Do this for me, and your tab's cleared."

MacCready raised his brow and asked, "What's it to you? Whether she lives or dies?"

The ghoul paused at MacCready's question, not sure of his answer. It was something he couldn't explain yet. He took pity on any newcomers to Goodneighbor, especially if they had never lived a lifestyle such as the one found in his town. Most couldn't take it; the chems, the brawls, the rough crowd. The meek floundered in Goodneighbor, as much as Hancock wanted the place to be a refuge for all. But for the softskin, the ghoul felt more than pity. It was reminiscent of the time he woke up from his most infamous drug binge and gazed upon the clothes of the original John Hancock. He looked at that vault girl and knew there was something that drew him to her, just like his red frock coat. He just didn't know what _it_ was yet.

"Heard over the radio that she started some new settlements with the Minutemen, bringin' 'em back and all that sorta shit. She's good and we need more like her out here. You want your damn tab paid off or not?" Hancock asked. MacCready grinned as he stuck out his palm and they shook hands before he took off up the stairs after Betty.

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Inside her new employer's residence, a cleaned and patched up Betty walked down the stairs into the basement. The ghoul woman sat at a table, looking over a large map, muttering to herself as she traced a certain pattern over and over again on the paper.

Betty cleared her throat and said in a low voice, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting for long."

The ghoul woman looked up and asked, "Ready to get to work? You'll get plenty of exercise working for me, because you're gonna be doing some digging."

"For what? Buried treasure?" Betty asked with a chuckle.

"You could call it that, but seriously, lay off the questions," Bobbi said with a growl. She handed Betty the one hundred caps as promised and said, "The other two are down there digging already. Go give 'em a hand, will ya?"

Bobbi stood up and reached for a pack of cigarettes before pointing at the door. Filled to the brim with questions, Betty thought it best to do as she was paid and pushed through the door to the big dig down beneath the basement. The stone path was cramped and Betty was forced to lean down a bit in certain areas to spare herself from a head injury. Dust drifted down all around her and she eyed the meager wooden posts that held up the tunnel with caution.

The passage opened up beneath the streets and buildings of Downtown Boston, and Betty heard a man's voice say, "Hey, I think we can finally get through! Want to see what's on the other side?"

Betty found a tunnel worker wearing a hard hat that lit up the area his partner dug away at and smiled at him as she added a friendly wave to her greeting. "Need a hand, boys?"

The worker wearing the hard hat nodded and pointed to a shovel leaning against a wall as the other worker asked, "You think Bobbi'll pay us this week?"

"I don't know, man. It's starting to feel like fucking charity...wait! Did you hear something?"

Betty had just picked up the shovel and followed the men into the tunnel when one shouted, "It's crawling with fuckin' mirelurks! Bail out! Bail out!"

Both of the men shoved past Betty, knocking her to the ground as one shouted, "Bobbi can take this job and shove it! Good luck down there!"

With a sigh, she stood up with her shovel in hand and asked herself, "What the hell is a mirelurk?"

A faint, clicking drifted over to Betty and she peered down over the edge of the stone steps as she searched for the source of the noise. Three large mirelurks, which she realized must've been lobsters and crabs at one point in their existence, crawled out of the newly excavated area and were headed right for her.

"Really? Really?!" Betty shouted. "Is nothing normal out here anymore?"

She threw the shovel at the mirelurks and winced when one snapped the tool clean in two with a click of its pincers. There was no way her handgun would even penetrate their armored bodies and she dove beneath an old generator as one attempted to skewer her. All she had left was her rifle, but she'd have to no-scope it, something she never tried before. All three mirelurks snapped at her as she wedged herself tighter between the generator while she reached for her rifle.

"I'm not dying in this sewer," Betty said to herself before she shoved the barrel of the rifle into the face of the smallest mirelurk and pulled the trigger. Its face broke apart and the creature fell to the stone floor, dead. One of the bugs began to feast on the fresh corpse and she took aim for its face as well before killing it. The third lifted its claws above its head and Betty lashed out with her foot, kicking it onto its back. She rushed from her cover and brought down the heel of her boot several times until there was nothing but dark green goo that remained of its face.

Betty leaned against the wall beside the largest mirelurk and slid down until she sat in the puddle of murky water, out of breath. Bobbi raced down the stairs, took one look at the mess and asked, "What the hell is going on in my tunnel?"

"Your boys ran off and left me to deal with...these things. Would've been nice if you mentioned them," Betty said as she held up her rifle. "I don't know how you expected me to exterminate your little pests here with a long-range rifle. Or a shovel, like that one idiot gave me."

"At least you put up a better fight than those good for nothings, and you stuck around. That means two things: one, you get both of their shares now, and two, you're promoted from tunnel worker to my newest hired gun."

"Thanks?"

"Yeah, yeah, but we'll need one more guy to help us out...an old friend. He'll want a fair share but we saw where being cheap got me. This guy will help us get to where we need to be. Likes gadgets, money, and not much else. I have some business nearby in Diamond City. Take a day or two to rest and then meet me at the noodle stand. Don't go sniffing around in town until we're done there. They don't like ghouls, so I'll be pressed for time, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," answered Betty.

Diamond City...exactly where she needed to be. The man who could help her find Shaun would be there, but with little money to offer for any help, Betty would be forced to do as Bobbi said until she was paid.

* * *

Nearly the entire way to Diamond City, Betty didn't fire a single shot, save for a few straggling feral ghouls and mongrel dogs. As she walked, she heard the unmistakable shot or two of a powerful sniper rifle and then silence before she'd come upon the still warm bodies of raiders and a pair of hulking, green monsters, all shot in the head with single bullet. It was the work of a very skilled marksman. The Sole Survivor felt a chill whenever she came upon another corpse, wondering how far ahead this sharpshooter could be and whether she was a target as well.

By sundown, after following the signs throughout Downtown, Betty reached Diamond City and threw up her hands at the sight of her beloved Fenway Park, which now housed the largest city of the Commonwealth. Gone were the days of hotdogs and beer beneath spring sunshine, now replaced with trip wires and hand grenade bouquets.

A young woman in a red jacket and newsboy cap shouted at an intercom as Betty came closer to the gates, "What d'you mean you can't open the gate? Stop playin' around, Danny! I'm standing out in the open here for cryin' out loud!"

"I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I'm sorry, just doing my job," said the voice on the opposite end of the intercom.

The young woman crossed her arms and snapped, "Just doing your job? Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? 'Ooh, look, it's the scary reporter!' Boo!"

"..I'm sorry, but Mayor McDonough's really steamed, Piper. Sayin' that article you wrote was all lies. Whole city's in a tizzy," explained the man over the intercom.

"You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan!" the woman shouted with a stomp of her foot. "I freakin' live here!"

Betty tapped the woman's shoulder before she leaned in and whispered, "Play along, okay?"

The woman named Piper smiled and stepped aside, looking Betty over.

"Hello? Can you hear me all right?" Betty shouted into the intercom. "I don't know what's going on with this nutjob out here, but I'm starving and looking for somewhere to blow my hard-earned caps."

"All right, All right, I'll let you in. Piper, I know you're still there. Don't make me regret this."

Piper slapped Betty hard on the back and said, "Thanks for the help!"

"No problem...sorry for that nutjob comment," Betty replied.

The gates opened and as Betty and Piper walked past the ticket counters, they were confronted by a rather large and mustached gray-haired man, who tore the hat off his head and threw it on the ground at the sight of the young reporter.

"Damn it, Piper! Who you let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!" he shouted. "Y-you devious, rabble-rousing little slanderer! The...the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have your printer scrapped for parts!"

"Oooh, is that a statement, Mr. McDonough? 'Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?'" mocked Piper.

"You're Mayor McDonough?" Betty asked, speaking up. She may not have spent more than a couple of days in Goodneighbor, but it was more than enough to form her own opinion on the matter.

The mayor adjusted the sleeves of his suit and flattened his tie before he reached out to shake Betty's hand, which she refused, and said, "Yes, ma'am. I humbly apologize for this dirty, little rat here. I assure you, she'll be out of Diamond City in no time."

"I heard of you, when I spent some time at Goodneighbor. You're not the first mayor I've met in this new Commonwealth." Betty explained. Mayor McDonough froze at the mere mention of Goodneighbor. "Now I understand why Mayor Hancock and his people can't stand you. First, you ban ghouls and now you're threatening to ban the press as well? This place should be a hovel in no time. I'd rather take my chances in Goodneighbor, if I'm being honest."

"I didn't take you for a junkie whore-monger like Hancock," McDonough said with a scoff. "I hoped he'd be rotting away by now. If I hear of any trouble you bring in here-"

"-Don't worry, I don't associate with bigots more than I have to," Betty said before she grabbed a laughing Piper's wrist and walked away. She glanced at Piper after dropping her wrist and said, "Sorry about that. I didn't mean you...it's just I hate people like him, and when he said that shit about hoping Mayor Hancock was dead by now...ugh. I've met Hancock, and he's one of the kinder people I've met out here."

"Not a problem, though between you and me, I heard the whore-mongering part is true. Is it?" Piper asked with an amused grin. "A ghoul the women of Goodneighbor and beyond flock to?"

Betty had to laugh at how ridiculous Piper's question sounded but answered, "I'm not really from around here and I don't know him all that well, but he's certainly respected and admired by all in his town."

Piper scratched her chin with the end of her pencil and said, "New in the Commonwealth, eh? Stop by my office sometime. I have a bitchin' idea for an article you'd be perfect for. What's your name?"

"Betty Parker."

"All right, then, Miss Parker. Hope I see ya soon and thanks for getting me in!" said Piper before she left Betty to stare at the entirety of Diamond City.


	7. The Big Dig

**Got this done much faster than expected so it's likely I'll put up another chapter tomorrow. Enjoy!**

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Miss Parker, Piper called her. Not Mrs. Parker. It was a fierce sting whenever Betty was reminded that she was alone in the world. With each day that passed, the wedding ring on Betty's left hand weighed more and more, the harshest reminder of all that she and Nate had made it as far as _death do us part,_ except now she had to keep living without him. There were times she wanted to rip the ring off her finger and chuck it into the ocean, but every morning when she woke up in the Commonwealth, the pain would sting a little less.

It was unreal for Betty to physically walk on the former baseball field. Most kids dreamed about a moment like this before the war, and now it was commonplace. Hell, people _lived_ here and once again, the Sole Survivor found herself impressed with the ingenuity of the settlers. Right over the pitcher's mound sat a colorful, open-air noodle bar. She looked around for Bobbi, wondering how she'd find her if she was wearing a disguise, until she heard a familiar, raspy voice.

"There you are," said Bobbi No-Nose. She wore a gas mask that covered her face and leather gloves. "Was wondering if you were going to show up. Yes, it's me. I have to hide my face in these parts. Sit."

Betty took a seat next to her as a Protectron wandered over and announced, "Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

"What?" asked Betty.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?" the robot asked again.

"Just say yes; it's the only thing he responds to," explained Bobbi.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

"Uh, yes?" Betty answered and the robot plopped a bowl of noodles in front her. "Ramen noodles? Well, at least one thing is still the same."

"That big wall of glass looming over the city is the mayor's office. Most people don't know it, but there's a strongroom buried beneath. Mayor's just sittin' on top of it. And that's our target," said Bobbi as she pointed to the skybox above the stadium.

Betty's face fell and she said, "I'm not a thief...anymore."

It was a time of Betty's life that she'd much rather forget than be reminded of. Barely sixteen years old, standing in front of a judge for stealing booze with her idiotic friends. With her squeaky clean record and stellar grades at the time, the judge was lenient, but it was her public defender who showed Betty she could be more than a petty thief. It drove Betty to go to law school and become a public defender herself.

Bobbi laughed and said, "No time like the present to give that field of work another shot. The guy has it coming, if you ask me. With the way he treats my kind, he might even deserve worse."

Still seething from her meeting with McDonough earlier, Betty answered, "What's in there anyway?"

"Things we want. Things everyone wants, and if you get in on this, there's plenty for you. Got it? So let's make this party a little bigger, shall we? I tracked down my tech guy, Mel. The guy can make a gadget to solve any problem. The thing is...he's a bit locked up right now. You have to get him out. I can't stroll into Diamond City Security with this face, covered or not. Find a way to get him out and I don't care what you have to do. Pick the lock, bribe the guard, whatever. Get him out and then leave the city with Mel before you two talk about what we're going for," Bobbi explained. "Oh, and since you tried to make me feel guilty about that mishap with the cowards back at the dig, I suggest you buy another gun. Shotgun would be best. Don't disappoint me, and you'll have more caps than you know what to do with."

Betty watched Bobbi slurp up the last of her noodles and toss a few caps on the counter. The robot picked them up along with the empty bowl.

"Noodles are great," Betty said to the Protectron.

"Nan-ni shimasho-ka?"

"Ugh, all right, yes."

A second bowl of noodles appeared and Betty ate both with gusto before she paid a visit to the arms dealer behind her. A few caps lighter, she was now the proud owner of a heavily used combat shotgun that would probably fall apart after three or four shots. She asked for directions to the security office and laughed when she realized it used to be the drunk tank for unruly fans back in her day.

Inside, the security office was a bit smaller than Betty imagined, and only two guards kept watch in the room. A short, red-headed man dozed off in the corner of his cell, his soft snores overpowered by the radio the guards had been jamming out to just before she walked in. She hoped it was a result of good security, but it was more likely because the guards were trigger-happy. Even now, she couldn't escape abuse of power, or lack of effort, as she was about to discover.

"I'm here for Mel," said Betty. "Is this where can I post bail for him?"

Mel woke up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a wide yawn.

"Eh, don't bother. His time is up in a couple of hours anyway and I'm starved. I'll let him out," said one of the guards, reaching for his keys as he turned to Mel and added, "And don't let me catch you trying to re-wire anything in the city again or you're gonna die in here next time."

Mel walked out of his cell, stretching his arms over his head before he saluted the guard. He turned to Betty and said in a low voice, "I know why you're here. God, that woman doesn't have a patient bone in her body. She couldn't even wait one day, could she? C'mon, we can talk outside."

As the pair walked out of Diamond City, Betty swore that once this job with Bobbi was over, she would return here and begin the search for Shaun, a few hundred caps richer to cover any bribes or necessary payments to save him.

Mel turned to Betty outside the city gates and said, "Thanks for getting me out, I guess. Would've only been in there a day or two more. So, you're Bobbi's new toy?"

"I'm not anyone's toy," Betty said with a scowl.

"Right...man, Bobbi sure knows how to pick the gullible ones, which is shitty since you seem to be a nice girl and all," said Mel. "What's the job?"

"Breaking into the Diamond City strongroom," Betty answered with a hint of smile.

"God damn, that's a big score. Could be enough caps there to keep me goin' a long time. Look, Bobbi might be shady, but she always pays up in the end. Let's go. Hope you're better with a gun than I am."

* * *

Bobbi No-Nose and Mel were waiting for Betty at the entrance of the dig, where Betty had almost been mauled by over-sized lobsters. At least she had a better gun this time around and a nap to boot. A small, round robot hovered over Mel's shoulder, its blue and white lights blinking on and off as it beeped.

Bobbi clapped her hands and announced, "All right, we're all here. Mel, you wanna introduce your little friend?"

Mel gestured to the robot with a proud smile and said to Betty, "Meet Sonya. This little bot is gonna help us move through the earth like a mole rat on jet. I modified her radio systems to emit sonic pulses at frequencies that can loosen any sediment around us."

"That's pretty clever," said Betty.

"Yeah, she's just a dream to work with. Best damn bot I've fixed up yet."

"Mel says we'll be able to get to the strongroom ten times faster than just digging and a helluva lot safer than loading the place up with dynamite," said Bobbi.

Mel cleared his throat and said, "Get ready, I'm not sure how the area will respond to this so, uh, brace yourselves. Sonya, do your thing."

Betty watched the small robot zoom over to a wall of the dig and out burst a blinding, blue light along with a high-pitched beep that disintegrated the wall to dust. The other walls around them held up and the three of them sighed with relief that the ceiling didn't cave in around them.

It was a hell of a fight for all of them when it was discovered that the group had dug right into a mirelurk nest. They were everywhere, bursting from piles of sand and from beneath small pools of filthy sewage water. Mel's bot, Sonya, would zoom in and out of range of the mirelurks, distracting the creatures long enough for Betty and Bobbi to put them down. No one spoke until they broke through and ended up in an old subway station crawling with feral ghouls.

"Keep heading Southwest," shouted Bobbi over the growls of ferals and gunshots. "We need to find a place to blast out of these tunnels."

"Bobbi, are you sure we're going the right way?" Mel shouted from behind a pillar. He screamed as Betty rushed him, knocking back a feral ghoul coming at him from behind.

"Of course I am," Bobbi answered with squinted eyes. It was enough to give Betty pause. Mel seemed harmless, but Bobbi was another story. She was a bit too secretive for Betty's liking.

"B-but Diamond City is more-" Mel began.

"-We're going the right way. Don't fucking ask me again, Mel."

Betty wasn't sure why Bobbi was being so short with Mel, who was a friend of hers, supposedly. Maybe she didn't expect so many obstacles in the way of the Diamond City strongroom. Hours later, five by Betty's estimate, Sonya had blasted the group into the basement of a large room that smelled of malt and hops.

"There's a brewery near our strongroom," Bobbi explained as they looked about the room. "This has to be the basement to that brewery."

"Brewery, you say?" Mel asked with a grin.

"Mel," said Bobbi with a sour face. "No."

"Just kidding...geez," said Mel. He glanced at a confused Betty and whispered, "I used to have a problem with beer."

Betty grimaced while Mel slipped a couple of beers from a cabinet into his pockets. Shame. That was another thing that changed since the war. The settlers of this new Commonwealth didn't seem to have much of it, arguing in the streets and airing laundry so dirty Betty would have burnt it. There wasn't much time to wonder about it anyhow, when Sonya blasted through yet another tunnel into a room where two mirelurk kings fought over territory. Bobbi tossed a grenade at the creatures and though the blast was enough to shake the room, Betty could have sworn she heard a lone gunshot as one of the mirelurk kings fell.

The Sole Survivor kicked the creature over as Bobbi and Mel checked for the best spot to blast another hole. Betty's eyes fell upon the entrance wound right between the mirelurk's eyes. One shot, from a high-powered sniper rifle, the same wound as the others on her way to Diamond City. She looked above her and found nothing but concrete, stone, and a set of rafters that led from one area to another, most likely for maintenance. Someone was following them, but whoever they were, they were making the fighting a hell of a lot easier.

Just down a large pipe, Betty heard Mel say, "If Bobbi's directions are correct, and I have my doubts, the strongroom should be right through here."

"Go for it, Sonya," said Betty with a smile towards Mel.

The little bot beeped twice and blasted through the wall, leading the group to the largest room so far.

"Great, now my socks are wet, but we're right under the strongroom," said Bobbi as she walked into the room.

"You sure this is the right place?" Mel asked in a small voice. "I've been mapping it out and Diamond City should be a little further North of here."

"What did I say before? I don't have a doubt in my mind. How about a little trust for the boss?"

"Tell the truth, Bobbi, c'mon. Where are we?" Betty asked.

Bobbi glared at her with clouded blue eyes and snapped, "Under the Diamond City strongroom. And _that_ is the last time I'm saying it. We still need a way to get up there, though. Mel, you think your robot will work here?"

Mel nodded and said, "Look at this place. The foundation's already crumbling. One blast from Sonya and I bet the floor would come right down."

"Well then, make it so," Bobbi ordered.

"We won't wanna be in the room for this...collapsing foundation and all," Mel suggested.

"Good idea," said Bobbi. "Everybody clear out and wait in the tunnel."

Mel held his beloved robot between his hands and said, "Sonya, prepare yourself for a blast at maximum power."

Betty grabbed Mel's shoulder and nearly dragged him into the tunnel as the bot's explosion rocked the foundation, sending a cloud of dust and grit into the tunnel.

"That didn't sound good," said Mel with a frown. "Didn't expect that much of a kick. Hope Sonya's okay.."

"Let's get up to the strongroom, shall we?" said Bobbi as she stepped back into the basement.

Mel rushed past both Bobbi and Betty, and when he found his robot, pieces strewn about, he fell to his knees and cried out, "Oh, no. No. No, Sonya!"

"Pull yourself together, Mel. We don't need that stupid thing anymore anyway," Bobbi said.

He looked up at Bobbi with glassy eyes and whispered, "But-"

"-You can build another robot with the haul we get from the strongroom. Keep your god damn head in the game!"

"Hey!" Betty shouted, putting herself between Bobbi and Mel. "Back the hell off and show a little compassion, all right? It'll take two minutes tops to help him gather her up."

"We don't _have_ two minutes," Bobbi replied in a nasty tone.

"Go up by yourself then if you're in such a hurry, and we'll meet you in two minutes. Jesus. Mel, please, let me help."

Betty gathered as many of the small, metal pieces as she could but it wasn't easy to distinguish what was rubble and what was part of Sonya. Just the same, she placed what parts she found scattered about into Mel's hands.

"Can you rebuild her with these?" she asked him.

Mel nodded, wiped his eyes and said, "Y-yeah. Yeah, I can. Thanks."

"C'mon, let's finish this and get paid, huh? You'll have enough to make Sonya a friend, too."

Mel followed behind Betty as they walked up the now-collapsed ceiling of the strongroom, Sonya in his arms. Betty pushed the only door in the room open with her shoulder, beckoning Mel to go ahead. Light poured through the windows of the strongroom and Bobbi stood in the middle, her pistol pointed upward. Betty looked up, expecting to see the sniper who had been following them for the entirety of the dig.

Instead, it was Fahrenheit who stood in the rafters along with two other guards. Betty felt the color drain from her face as she and a very pissed off Fahrenheit locked eyes. Betty couldn't even swallow the dread that built up in her throat.

"Bobbi, what the hell are you doing here?" Fahrenheit asked. She crossed her arms and began to tap her foot, waiting for Bobbi to answer.

"Shit," Bobbi whispered to herself.

"You seriously didn't think Hancock would catch wind of your scheme? He took you in, Bobbi. And you're stealing from him?" asked Fahrenheit.

"Hancock?" Betty asked as she looked over at Bobbi. "What does he have to do with this?"

Mel groaned and closed his eyes as Bobbi pleaded with Betty, "Don't listen to her!"

"Mel was right. This isn't Diamond City, you liar," Betty said.

"So what? This doesn't change anything. It's still the same job," Bobbi said with a shrug.

Fahrenheit threw her head back and laughed before she said, "I see you two dumbasses are in the dark about this. Not surprised. Nice, No-Nose. You all just broke into Hancock's strongroom. You know, Hancock? The mayor of Goodneighbor?"

"Dammit, Bobbi!" Mel shouted.

"Listen guys, I know this isn't what you expected, but there are still a ton of caps on the line here," Bobbi explained. "Help me take her out and all of it's ours."

Mel pushed past Betty and stood inches away from Bobbi as he said, "This is _Hancock_ we're ripping off here, are you insane? You know the guy tends to hold grudges! He'll gut us in the streets for this! I watched him cut out a man's tongue for insulting him one night at the bar!"

"You bitch," snarled Betty as she reached for her shotgun.

"Counter offer!" Fahrenheit announced, silencing the room. "Just go back in your little tunnel there and we can forget this ever happened. What do you say?"

"-Why did you lie to us?" Betty asked Bobbi. "I want some god damn answers as to why I might be killed by the one guy who welcomed me into his town with open arms. You screwed us, and you're going to tell me why. Now!"

The old ghoul woman chuckled and said, "I knew no one in their right mind would help me rip off Hancock. Everyone is so damn afraid of him or so damn in love with him. He thinks he's invincible. I wanted to show him he wasn't."

"That's your bullshit reason? You could've gotten Mel and I killed! I'd never be able to look for my son..." said Betty. She shook her head and pointed her shotgun at Bobbi. "You made your choice. Now, I'm making this one. Mel, get out of here."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Mel ran back towards the basement but paused and whispered to Betty, "Thanks for helping with Sonya."

The Sole Survivor nodded and Mel disappeared into the darkness below.

"Know what? Fine. More for me!" Bobbi shouted.

The ghoul pistol whipped Betty, sending her flat on her back and the shotgun clattering into the basement before Bobbi climbed onto Betty and tried to point the gun at her face. They struggled over the weapon as Fahrenheit shouted to her men to cease fire. A gunshot fired, echoing in the now silence of the strongroom. Betty opened her eyes and screamed when she looked up to see what was left of Bobbi's face splattered across herself and the concrete floor beneath her.

Betty crawled out from beneath the ghoul's body as she wiped her face several times, her shaking arm not doing much to clean away the gore. She looked up to see Fahrenheit looking about the room and searching for this sniper herself but when she found nothing out of the ordinary, she hopped down from the rafters with ease and offered Betty her hand with a smile.

"You made the right move, new blood," Fahrenheit said to Betty.

"I-I'm so sorry," Betty stammered. "I never would've done this if I knew the place belonged to Hancock."

Fahrenheit nodded and asked, "Who's strongroom did she say you were breaking into?"

"Diamond City's. I met their mayor yesterday. I would've been glad to rob him, which is why I agreed to in the first place."

Fahrenheit laughed and said, "But unfortunately, you almost robbed _this_ mayor instead and destroyed most of the strongroom in the process. Go, through that door there. Go and tell Hancock what happened, before he hears about it from someone else."

"I thought he knew this was going on!" Betty said, her voice a bit higher than usual.

"Oh, that? I said that to Bobbi so she'd shit her pants and maybe take my deal of leaving with nothing. I just heard about the break-in myself maybe an hour ago. Made it just in time. Now, hurry."

Betty made it as far as the door before she turned and asked, "..He's not going to kill me, right?"

Fahrenheit laughed again and said, "Kill you? Huh, well..maybe, if I'm being honest. Other...situations are more likely but in any case, he'd be happy to hear about your loyalty, so I'd start with that before you mention how most of the floor caved in. It's best to stay on his good side, trust me. If anything, just bat those gorgeous eyes of yours at him a few times and maybe he'll rethink the whole, killing thing. Might wanna undo a few buttons on your shirt before you walk into his office, too."

When the Sole Survivor's fantastic bod disappeared behind the door, there was a deafening crash just before a man fell from a high shelf at Fahrenheit's boots with a thud.

"Ugh, that's gonna freakin' suck in the morning," the young man said to himself. Hancock's bodyguard rested her hands on her hips as she towered over a dusty RJ MacCready, who grinned up at her with dark blue eyes. "What's goin' on, F?"

"I might ask you the same shit, RJ. What the hell are _you_ doing in here? Don't fuckin' tell me you were in on this."

MacCready used his sniper rifle in an attempt to help himself up until he fell back again and shouted, "You aren't even gonna help me up? You helped the new girl!"

"Yeah, well I wanted to check out her tits, see what Hancock's drooling over this time. You gonna tell me why you're here?"

MacCready struggled to get up on his own and this time, Fahrenheit thrust out her hand to him. "Thanks, I guess. Hancock asked me to follow the vault girl and make sure she didn't die and gauge her skills."

"And?" Fahrenheit asked.

"She's a decent enough scrapper, but she gets overwhelmed sometimes or morons like that guy with the dead robot cry in the corner while she does all the work. But that face...I'll be thinkin' about _her_ when I can't go to sleep.."

Fahrenheit put MacCready in a head lock long enough to ruffle his hair and then wrapped a long arm around his shoulders. "Sick shot with Bobbi there."

MacCready smiled and thanked her as he strapped the sniper rifle to his back.

"C'mon kid, let's get our drink on, maybe pick up some girls."


	8. Partners

**Phew! Just in time. I'll be having a busy rest of the week so I think this is it until next week at least. BUT! The good news is that from this chapter on, we have Hancock to entertain us (and Betty). Enjoy and thanks for following!**

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Betty walked toward the winding staircase, hell-bent on getting to Hancock before word got out about her foolishness. Would he be ruthless enough to shiv _her_ like he did Finn? She didn't doubt it; out here in this insane, blood thirsty world, a leader must be vicious and unforgiving to secure the title. One of the mayor's guards tried to block Betty's path, but she ducked beneath his arm and went ahead regardless.

"Wait! Don't go up there, the Mayor's bus-" another guard began to say.

"-Get out of my way, I need to see him!" she shouted, pushing the muscle aside. She rushed up the staircase to his office but discovered that he wasn't there. The entire floor was empty, or so she thought, until she heard a pair of groans and moans coming from the bedroom across the hall along with loud, squeaking springs of an aging mattress.

"Mayor Hancock!" shouted Betty. No time for manners now.

Hancock thought he heard someone come up the stairs but figured it was Fahrenheit dropping off some paperwork for him to look over, until he heard the new softskin's voice instead.

"Shit!" he whispered to himself, "Right when I was gonna pop too, god damn it!"

He shoved his bed mate aside, but not before he shoved her underwear into her mouth to keep her silent. He paused for a second and whispered, "You're the dame that likes that, right?" The woman gave Hancock the finger as she pulled the bit of cloth from between her teeth.

"Mayor!" the softskin shouted once more and the ghoul winced, searching the bedsheets for a shirt before he gave up and rushed out to greet her, his pants sagging around his carved hips. He flashed the new girl a wide smile and her eyes drifted across his ruined skin, not with disgust, but with the unmistakable guise of curiosity.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...sorry for this too, shit. Today's clearly not my day," Betty said. She rested her hands on her hips with a sigh, enough to lift up a few strands of hair from her face.

The corners of Hancock's mouth wrinkled into a smile. The softskin may have caught him with his pants down, but he was pleased to see her nonetheless.

"Just takin' care of some, uh..business is all, nothin' important. Have a seat, softskin," said Hancock, motioning towards the couch beside his desk. The softskin seemed desperate and although it wasn't desperation in a way that he'd enjoy, he would hear her out as he did for any of his citizens, new or old.

Betty sat on the couch furthest from Mayor Hancock, just in case he was in a shivving sort of mood again. Nearly every flat surface of his office was littered with drugs. She picked up a syringe filled with a bright violet liquid with her fingertips, wondering what effect it'd give her. The ghoul sifted through a liquor cabinet and pulled out two old-fashion glasses along with a bottle of bourbon as the muscles etched into his back stretched and grew taut. She admired that he was so brazen, and it was obvious he wasn't hurting for attention from the fairer sex. He swaggered over and handed her one of the glasses with a wink as he sipped from the other.

Hancock sat across from Betty at his desk and propped his boots up. Betty still didn't say a word but continued to study his figure until the ghoul said, "Can't help but stare, can ya? I don't blame you, lots of dames find me interestin' enough to wonder what's beneath the coat. They usually ask me to keep the hat on, though."

"I'm not trying to, it's just..." Betty focused on her drink, swirling its contents before she looked up at the mayor and blurted out, "I screwed up."

A female voice shouted, "Hancock, come back to bed!" and he cringed at the sound, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. There went his chance with the softskin, right out the fucking window.

Betty smiled and said, "This is usually the point when I'd say 'I'll come back later' but I screwed up pretty bad and it can't wait."

Hancock groaned and threw his head back as he said, "I don't gotta kill you, do I? I ain't in no mood to snuff a broad." He finished off his drink before adding, "Stuff one? Fuck yeah. Kill? Maybe tomorrow, next day for sure if I'm hungover. Run away now and I won't chase ya, because it'd be a damn shame to kill a softskin as fine as you."

Hancock leaned on his desk, raising what would be his right brow had there been any hair left. His attempt to appear dashing only served to pull an amused smirk from Betty. He was charming, she'd give him that. With a laugh, she drained her glass and answered, "Well...you did shiv someone for a lot less, so yeah, there's a pretty decent chance you'd kill me for this."

"Hancock! If you don't come back to bed-" the woman in his bedroom shouted.

"-Gimme a sec, softskin," Hancock said to Betty in a low voice. He turned toward the bedroom and shouted, "Would ya quit with the whining already? It ain't nothin' you never had before!"

"But you're so good at it!"

Hancock turned back to Betty with a shit-eating grin and said, "I swear I didn't tell her to say that."

"Uh huh."

"She ain't lyin', though."

"Look, Bobbi No-Nose had me break into a strongroom. YOUR strongroom. I had no idea, she told me it belonged to that asshole mayor of Diamond City and with everyone in town getting all riled up at the mere mention of him...I thought he deserved it. I'm so sorry. Please, don't kill me, at least not until I've found my son."

"You're fucking kidding'me." Hancock took to his feet with a furious glare and Betty flinched as he stomped towards the bedroom, knocking his coat rack into a stack of papers. She heard him shout, "Get the fuck outta here!" and much to her surprise, it was no ghoul woman in his bed but a human one who scurried out, clothes in her arms. Two of the guards craned their necks to check out her bare backside as she left.

The ghoul barreled back into his office, red coat thrown over his shoulder and shouted, "Fahrenheit?!"

"She's still back at the strongroom," Betty explained. "...I may or may not have caused the floor to cave in."

Hancock threw his coat onto the desk and shouted at Betty, "What the hell else did you do?"

"That's it!" Betty said, shielding herself with a pillow.

The ghoul laughed and said to himself, "'That's it', she says, Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"I don't have much money, but please, just take it and I'll bring you more whenever I earn it," said Betty before she pulled the caps from her bag and held them out to Hancock.

He waved the caps away and said, "I ain't takin' what little ya got. Keep 'em; I got more than enough to cover repairs without hurting the 'ol wallet."

Betty stood up and began to say, "Mayor, I really am sorr-"

"-Please! For the love of jet, stop apologizing! This is Goodneighbor. No hard feelings, yeah?" said Hancock as he leaned across his desk and clamped a hand over Betty's mouth. She nodded with wide eyes and sat back on the couch, trembling a bit. Hancock let out a heavy sigh and picked up a med-x before sitting on the couch across from Betty. He held up the syringe and asked her if she minded his using, to which she shook her head. Hancock pulled his belt free and wrapped it around his bicep a few times before he shot up. As the med-x kicked in, he leaned into the cushions and said to Betty, "Sorry about the shoutin'. I promise, I ain't angry with ya. How the hell would you know Bobbi's bad news...speaking of which, what'd you do with her?"

"I was going to...kill her. She pistol-whipped me before I could and we fought over her gun for a few minutes before someone shot her in the head."

"It wasn't you who snuffed her?" Hancock asked and Betty shook her head. "You turnin' on her, whether you killed her or not, was a wise decision. Let's celebrate that wise decision of yours. I don't mean to disappoint my newest fan, but I gotta put a shirt on first. Last time I ran naked through the streets of Goodneighbor, I mixed six different chems into one giant batch, but uh, I can pencil you in for a more...personal session later. Dinner and everything; I like to spoil my women."

"I'm married- um...was married," Betty answered.

The grin on Hancock's face disappeared and he said in a low, much softer voice, "Sorry to hear. Bad terms?"

"He was murdered by the same people who kidnapped my son and left me to die in that vault."

"Holy fuck." Hancock grimaced, leaned across the coffee table and rested the tips of his fingers on her knee. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, let me or Fahrenheit know. Don't you hesitate, I insist. Ammo, guns, armor, you name it and I'll get it. Hell, I'll join ya if you want someone to hold down those assholes while you beat the shit outta them."

There was a quick knock on the door before a handsome, dark-blonde man strolled in, cap under his arm, sniper rifle at his back, and a beer in his free hand. He bumped fists with Hancock and smiled at Betty as he drained the last of his beer before he set the empty bottle down on the desk.

"Betty, this is your guardian angel, RJ MacCready, in case you were wonderin' how the hell you survived that fiasco without a bullet in your brain," said Hancock. "Best damn shot I've ever seen. Your tab's clear as promised, kid. Go drink it up and enjoy."

"F and I got a head start on that," said MacCready as he leaned against Hancock's desk, eyeing Betty with a sly grin. "Sup, vault girl."

"Thanks for watching my back," Betty said. "Especially with Bobbi at the end."

"Oh, it was a pleasure watching you-over you!"

"Out, RJ!"

"Sorry, mayor. Forgot you called dibs," said MacCready with a grin. Hancock took a stack of papers off his desk and threw them at the hired gun.

"Don't make me triple that tab instead," Hancock said with a hint of a snarl. "Or worse, make you Charlie's errand boy. You know he'd _love_ that."

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" said MacCready. "Just wanted to let you know that repairs on the strongroom floor are gonna start tomorrow. Cool?"

"Very. Thanks again, kid. Drink six for me." Once MacCready went down the stairs, Hancock sighed and said to Betty, "This classy little tricorner hat of mine is gettin' heavy. I spend all my time putting down people I would've been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again, get a grip on what really matters: Living free. Let's go after those motherfuckers that did you wrong. Together. I get to live, and you get your revenge."

"Not that I don't want you to, because I could sure use the help, but why do you want to leave so badly?" she asked. "I thought you loved this place."

"Because, Betty, you might just be the right kind of trouble."

"So you and Fahrenheit aren't...you know..."

Hancock spat out the last of his drink and howled with laughter. "Wait, you think me and the girl are screwing? She's gotta hear this, hold on." He rushed to the doorway and shouted down the stairwell, "Fahrenheit! Get in here!"

Moments later, his body guard jogged up the stairs and into the room. "You yelled, my liege?" she asked with a roll of her eyes.

"All right, Betty, tell Fahrenheit what you just told me." Hancock elbowed his body guard and whispered, "This is good."

"I, uh, thought you and Hancock were...together," Betty explained, "and I didn't want him to travel with me if it would upset you."

Both Fahrenheit and Hancock burst into hysterics, with the ghoul sinking to the floor as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the hem of his body guard's shirt. Fahrenheit couldn't even look at either Hancock nor Betty without cracking up all over again.

"Girl, you can _have_ this piece of brahmin jerky," Fahrenheit managed to spit out. Hancock stood up, reaching for his old pack on a shelf above his head until Fahrenheit brought it down for him. He snatched it from her hands and tried his best to keep a straight face.

"Fuck you, it's _deathclaw_ , not brahmin jerky. Jesus, get it right, makin' me look bad over here," said Hancock as he dug through a set of drawers, tossing whatever clothes didn't suit his fancy over his shoulder. Finding nothing that spoke to him, he went to his bedroom to try his luck there.

Betty felt a bit foolish that she even mentioned anything at all but after being on the receiving end of Fahrenheit's death glare back at the strongroom, she figured she'd rather be safe than sorry.

After she gained some of her composure back, Fahrenheit said to Betty, "When I say Hancock is not my type, I mean it in every way possible. Nothing personal, of course; he's my best friend and he saved my life but-"

Hancock returned to his office, sporting a leather trench coat from his drifter days and said, "-What Fahrenheit's tryin' to say here is that she loves to," the ghoul made a V with his fingers and stuck his tongue out between them, wriggling it about, "more than I do. I'd be worried about gettin' cornered by this super mutant after she's had a few. I saw her makin' eyes at you, Betty."

Fahrenheit swatted the back of Hancock's head, knocking his tricorn hat to the desk.

The ghoul laughed and said, "I'd fire your ass for that if I wasn't making you mayor in my absence. Gonna help the softskin here find her kid and live it up a little outside these walls."

"Good, I thought you'd never leave," Fahrenheit said to Hancock with a grin. She reached out to shake hands with Betty and pulled her closer instead with a wink and a bite of her bottom lip. "If you get tired of his shit, you know where to find me, doll face."

Betty had never been hit on by a woman before, especially one as beautiful as Fahrenheit. She couldn't remember the last time she blushed so much so that she could've sworn her face was aflame, but she managed to say, "You really are lovely, you know. If I ever played for your team, you'd be the first girl I look up."

"Aren't you just the sweetest little thing?" Fahrenheit murmured as she twisted a lock of Betty's hair between her fingers and added, "You'd never go back after a night with me.."

"Wait, you believe the softskin and not me when I tell ya you look good?" Hancock interrupted as he gathered chems for his pack. "That ain't fair."

Fahrenheit laughed. "Because your way of telling me I look nice is along the lines of, 'You don't look _as_ huge in those pants, I like 'em', and my personal favorite, 'Why you gotta suffocate the girls?'" she said, pointing to her breasts.

"Well, why do ya? How's any girl gonna know how great a rack you're sportin' if you keep it under wraps?"

Fahrenheit looked at Betty and whispered, "Please take him far, far away for at least a month, would you?"

Hancock tossed his full pack on the desk and announced, "Ready for some action. Let me just have a little chat with my community first, give 'em the news, and we'll be on our way. I'd like it if you two beauties joined me on the balcony."

The ghoul offered both arms and a growl of satisfaction escaped as both women looped their arms through his.

"Do you always have to be so dramatic?" asked Fahrenheit.

"Ain't no other way to be. I got another shot at life and I'll live it any damn way I please," he replied. He turned to Betty and added, "Same goes for you. Frozen in time and waking up in a whole 'nother world. That's a new life, if I ever heard of one. So let's live a little, starting now."

With a kick of his combat boot, the doors swung open and Hancock led the three of them onto the balcony. Out of the corner of his eye, he met Fahrenheit's knowing gaze and smirked as he pulled Betty closer to his side. The softskin didn't seem as nervous as usual, which surprised him considering the ordeal she went through with Bobbi. He didn't expect Betty to take up his offer of joining her in her search for her son either, but there was no hesitation on her part. The ghoul thought he had his whole life planned out. Lead Goodneighbor to greatness, screw a lot of women, and ingest or shoot up as many chems as humanly possible. The moment Betty stepped through the gates, she unknowingly threw one hell of a curveball at him, one that he never realized he wanted. If he didn't figure out what it was about her that gave him that undeniable churning in the pit of his stomach, he'd go feral. Thankfully, now he bought enough time with her to unlock this particular puzzle.

Hancock let out a shrill whistle and shouted, "Gather up, everybody! C'mon, this one is short, but you should hear what I gotta say." It took a few minutes for the crowd to gather and he began with, "Look everyone, I'm takin' a walk. It's time for your fearless leader to get back out there. Mix it up in the dirt before I forget what that feels like."

"You can't leave, Hancock, we need you!" a man shouted from the crowd.

"Hey, I'm always gonna be here in spirit, my man. Goodneighbor and I, we got a connection. But like any hot-and-heavy relationship, sometimes you gotta spend time apart. Let things cool off, remind yourself who you are. That's why I'm leaving. I'm still your mayor, I'm always gonna be here when you need me, but it's time for me to stop living so damn comfortable. Because as we all know, no one in power deserves to be comfortable for long! Fahrenheit here is gonna watch your backs while I'm gone, and I know she'll take real good care of you all. Now, 'cause I gotta hear it one more time before I leave this place: What's the best god damn town in the Commonwealth? Where can someone live free with no judgments?

Everyone in the square, including Fahrenheit and Betty all shouted, "Goodneighbor! Of the people! For the people!"

Hancock climbed onto the railing and stood with his arms raised as the people of his town shouted his name, others tossed their hats high into the air, and a few of the guards shot a round or two into the darkening sky.

Betty reached for Hancock, worried he would fall but Fahrenheit rested her hand over Betty's with a warm smile and whispered, "Trust him. I do."

And Hancock threw himself from the railing. Betty leaned over the balcony, terrified she'd see his head cracked open on the concrete below but instead saw Hancock lifted by the cheering crowd, fists in the air.

Fahrenheit snaked an arm around Betty's waist and said, "Hancock's been like a father to me. He's a lot to take in, I get it, but trust him with your life and you'll live long enough to get your kid back. Maybe even long enough to see some grandkids. C'mon, I'll walk you downstairs."

Betty stopped by the office on the way down to grab Hancock's pack while Fahrenheit rooted around in a safe by the doorway before grabbing a double-barreled shotgun from a shelf. The ghoul met both ladies at the bottom of the staircase, and he took his pack from Betty's arms.

"You ready to get this show on the road, softskin?" Hancock asked Betty. Fahrenheit handed the ghoul his shotgun and a bag, the tinkling of caps hardly muffled through the cloth, before he blew a kiss for his bodyguard.

Betty smiled and replied, "Sure thing."

The three walked together to the gates of Goodneighbor and just before the ghoul crossed the threshold, Fahrenheit swiped the tricorn hat off his head, plopped it over her own head, and replaced his with a captain's hat.

"I'm the mayor now! Get outta my town, heathen!" Fahrenheit teased.

"Whole town's full of heathens, two less ain't gonna matter."

"Hey!" Betty said with surprise.

"I heard you cheer with the rest of them at the end of my speech so now, you're really one of us."

Fahrenheit wished them well and made sure to shove Hancock through the gate first before giving Betty's rear end a light swat. With a wink, she disappeared behind the gates and only Betty and Hancock remained. The Sole Survivor was back on track, only now she gained a charismatic, junkie ghoul as a sidekick. If someone told her this is how she'd end up in life, she would've had them committed.

"I'm not going to make this trip easy for you, you know," Betty said to Hancock, amused at her luck.

"Oh, I like a challenge. Give it to me, lemme hear it."

"We're going to Diamond City first. There's someone who can help me find my son, so I'm told."

"Oh, you mean Nicky?" he said. "Man, haven't seen him in a few years. Wonder if he's still pissed at me?"

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Nick Valentine. Detective for Diamond City. He's your man...err...yeah, let's go with that for now. Lead the way."

Betty took a few tentative steps forward when she heard the short rush of an inhaler. She turned to see Hancock tossing a jet inhaler aside and he ran ahead, whooping loudly and shooting off a few shells of his shotgun. Not even a minute had passed and the ghoul was already having the time of his life.

"He did say to live a little," Betty said to herself before she ran after the ghoul, who by now had climbed to the top of a rusted truck cab and was taking a piss, still cheering at the top of his lungs. "Thank god he's doing that with the wind. Hancock, wait up!"


	9. Brute Force

**Happy New Year, all! This was one my favorite chapters to write! Uh, trigger warning I guess towards the the middle? It's not too graphic, but better to warn than not. Next chapter is a favorite of mine as well, so I hope you guys enjoy! Seriously, thanks so so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews. I do it all for you.**

* * *

For the past two hours Hancock amused himself by watching Betty jump at every little noise along the way. His favorite moment was when a feral ghoul, crippled by an overturned newspaper bin, grabbed at her ankle with a growl. The height of that particular jump was impressive and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of a total babe losing her shit.

"This is absolutely ridiculous, all of it," Betty muttered. "I'm really surprised I haven't gotten either of us killed. Sorry you have to put up with me...even now, I still get a little nervous out here."

"You never gotta be afraid with me at your back. You're gonna get hurt sometimes, that's just reality. I'll get hurt too. We won't come out of this any prettier, but I ain't gonna let you die. Don't really see your concern, though. Shootin's on point," said Hancock in earnest.

"Yeah, with rifles and the only reason I'm half-way decent is because my dad would hunt during the fall and forced me to go along. Thank god he did that for me, at least...we didn't really get along."

"Too firm a hand?" Hancock asked after a short pause.

She nodded her head, not sure where such openness came from. She figured anything she told the ghoul, save for her bra size, would be forgotten once he took a chem break. He'd be due for one any minute now.

"My old man was the same. Gives people like us a head start on how to handle shit..and maybe give some back." Hancock gave Betty's shoulder a hearty pat before he added, "You'll pick up everything else soon enough. Not much of a choice, considerin' most of the Commonwealth's a death trap, but you got me to show ya the ropes."

Hancock was becoming quite good at surprising Betty with his thoughts. She didn't imagine they'd have much in common. Except music. That they agreed on ten feet away from the gates Goodneighbor without question.

"We gotta do somethin' about that damn DJ," said the ghoul as he followed Betty through the lobby of a building. "Makes me wanna shoot up twice as much sometimes."

"I'm sure if he hung out with you for a week, he'd lighten up a bit," said Betty.

"Heh, right about that," said Hancock. "Hoping I can do the same for you. You need to relax."

"Maybe after I hug my son."

The ghoul was bursting with questions for the sole survivor but after what she told him about her late husband, he was afraid to pick at wounds not yet healed. Still, it was best to know as much as possible about your partner out here in the Commonwealth. When one's life hung in the delicate balance of power and upper hands, it was in Hancock's best interest to know just how much baggage the vault girl carried.

"So is it safe to assume you saw the bombs fall? Must've been fuckin' intense," he said.

"They fell right as the elevator for the vault took us below ground. I'll never forget the rush of the wind from the fallout," Betty said in a low voice. "Nothing compared to waking up and going above ground to find everything in such a mess, though. That was more of a shock than anything else. I felt helpless."

"And now?"

"Not so much. Hey, maybe you'd recognize the man who took my son and...and shot my husband," said Betty.

"I know more than a couple assholes capable of something so fucked up. What do you remember?"

"He was mostly bald. Some dark hair, and a thick scar over the left side of his face. Brown eyes. Looked like a mercenary type, pretty fit for someone a few years older than me."

"And how old are you, not countin' the centuries you were frozen?"

"Just shy of thirty four. Birthday's in February."

"Good thing I prefer older dames," the ghoul joked. "Tryin' to rattle my head over the details but I can't think of anyone who fits that description. There might be a guy that fits, but Nicky would be better help with that."

"Either way, that man is dead the second I find him," she said.

"Don't blame ya. I'd do the same if I had any mini-me's running about."

"No kids at all for you?" she asked.

Hancock chuckled and replied, "None that I'm aware of. Ghouls are sterile otherwise from what I hear, but I wouldn't be shocked if a surprise turns up at my door one day from before I turned. What about you, ya got any others?"

"Just the one."

"Then let's make sure we find him."

Since Hancock joined up with her, Betty felt a bit more confident in her search for Shaun. Something about having a partner to watch your back made it feel real. Preston was a good friend, but Betty couldn't blame him for being caught up in repairing the Minuteman name. The soldier had taught her enough to make it this far. Now, she had a ghoul sidekick who was scary good with a knife and showed a few raiders earlier just how well he handled a double-barreled shotgun. He asked Betty to stay behind while he cleared the lobby and studied his skills, impressed and a bit terrified that he could be so ruthless all while he was as high as a kite.

"What'd you and your husband do for a livin' before everything went to shit?" asked Hancock after he climbed back down a ruined lightpost to scout ahead.

"Nate just retired from the military. He was in it most of his life, but was injured so they sent him home. We were on our way to a veteran's banquet the night the bombs fell. I'm...well, I was a public defender."

"Is that like a cop or somethin'?" he asked as he lifted a flimsy metal sheet, nodding for the softskin to walk ahead and when she did, his dark eyes followed the curve of her hip.

Betty felt the ghoul's eyes on her as she ducked beneath his arm. Before the war, she was never one to stand out unless she had a few drinks filled with courage in her. Now, amongst the ruins of rusted cars, buildings blasted and crumbling, and a smattering of dirty, wild-haired wastelanders, she stuck out like a beacon. Thankfully, he went no further than a lingering gaze or a harmless pat on her arm. Truth be told, Betty was nervous to be alone with him.

"A type of lawyer, for people who couldn't afford one when they went to court. Mostly criminals, but a few I took pity on. They'd get caught stealing food or selling drugs to feed their family, and I'd try to convince the judges to be lenient with them. I didn't make much money, and it was exhausting as all hell, but I loved it. Every second of it," Betty explained.

"I expect people with your trade made a tidy profit."

"They usually did. My college buddies always gave me shit, and spent their earnings on beach houses and fancy cars they were too afraid to drive. I didn't grow up well off, and made friends with some dumb kids who taught me how to pick locks and how many beers I could really stuff in a parka. Ended up in front of a judge, and was given a public defender. She gave a damn about me. So that's why I did it..." she smiled and said, "For the people, as you'd say."

"A woman after my own heart," Hancock replied as he put a hand over his chest. "Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit. Glad you feel the same."

"Is that why you shivved that man when I arrived in Goodneighbor?"

Hancock laughed. "Finn was trash. Fahrenheit and I were itchin' for a reason to snuff him, so thanks."

"How'd you end up with her as your right hand...woman? She's really..."

"-Huge? Scary? Hot?"

"Yes, hell yes, and currently questioning myself."

Hancock gave a hearty laugh but his face turned dark before he cleared his throat. "Right after I turned, maybe two or three months went by, I saw her getting slapped around by her pimp when I was makin' my way back to Goodneighbor after slingin' some dope."

"I'm not one to frown on sex work but that's horrible."

"Normally, huge fan, but not for her situation," he explained. "She was just a kid. Maybe twelve or so."

Betty gasped.

"I paid 75 caps for her. Hid her away in a subway station for a bit while I got my caps back. I, uh, hung him from a light post over his 'corner.' Used his intestines. Washed up, brought her to Goodneighbor and Daisy offered to raise her. The girl was always a bit tom-boyish, though, so she followed me or Ham whenever she got away with it. Kleo and I taught her to fight, shoot, and blow shit up. Every year on our 'anniversary' if ya wanna call it that, she gives me 75 caps. I have 'em all saved up for her, for a rainy day. Should be a nice surprise."

"I wouldn't take you as the fatherly type since you're so...free-spirited."

Hancock chuckled and said, "I actually like little ones. Funny as hell when you're stoned but they...don't really take to me much, now. All the ghoul hate doesn't help. Fahrenheit was the only one who wasn't afraid."

Night fell rapidly during Boston's winters, even nuclear winters, it seemed. The pair would have to find a spot to settle in for the night, unless they wanted to risk crossing downtown at night, which Betty was not at all excited about.

"Here's good for me," said Hancock when they reached an apartment building tucked around the corner from Hubris comics. Betty knew that Diamond City was only about a half hour away but nightfall brought out the worst downtown had to offer.

Betty dropped her lack on the counter in the lobby and said, "Good for me, too. Not that I'm in any position to be picky, am I?"

The ghoul shook his head with a laugh before he leaned over the counter and turned the music up on Betty's Pip-boy.

"The music's not going to attract more attention to us?" she asked.

"Not much more than this fire," explained the ghoul as he added trash littered around him to the growing fire he'd just lit in a garbage can, using the burning embers of his cigarette. "Small fires spring up all the time and I can't begin to tell ya how many times I found radios still playing whatever they catch off the airwaves."

The sole survivor sifted through the file cabinets beside a broken computer monitor and found a magazine from before the war, pages stiff and stuck together, but still readable. The Ink Spots began to play over the radio and Betty watched the ghoul as he hummed to himself, opening doors and peering around. She sat on a small couch and flipped the magazine to the sneak article mentioned on the cover.

Betty was about halfway through the article when Hancock hopped over the back of the couch and threw an arm around her. She screamed bloody murder, throwing the magazine in the air as she toppled to the cracked tile with a thud. The ghoul cackled with amusement until Betty pulled a rusted 10mm handgun out and pointed it right at him.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" she hissed. "Stop laughing and fucking answer me!"

Hancock raised his hands and chuckled before he replied, "Sorry, I just realized that I ain't ever heard you say 'fuck' before. I like it! Say it again!"

"I told you I was married!"

"Whoa now, I ain't like that, just get a little friendly when I'm buzzed. You know, handshakes, camaraderie and that kinda shit? Didn't mean any harm." The ghoul lowered an arm and reached out to Betty, slowly as to not spook her again. "C'mon, I'll help ya up."

She took his hand and Hancock pulled her back onto the sagging couch with a groan. The thought of spending a night alone with someone she knew nothing about set off every nerve in her body to flee. If she did, there was nowhere to run but out into the madness of downtown if Hancock decided to turn on her.

"Besides, it ain't no good for me if the gal's not into it," he said with a wink. This time, he laid down, taking up most of the couch and rested a leg across Betty's knee before he lit a cigarette. He took a drag before offering it to Betty, who slapped it out of his hand.

"If you didn't notice, it's fucking terrifying out here. You can hardly trust anyone, water and food are poisoned, fucking.. _mosquitoes_ are three god damn feet long now for crying out loud! Did you see that shit? And what really pisses me off is the fact that I can't even take a piss without fear of something coming out of the toilet to kill me!" Betty held her head in her hand and whispered, "I knew life wouldn't be the same the second my family ran to the vault. I fucking knew that. But I didn't think it would end up like..." she threw her hands up and choked out a laugh. "I'm so grateful Nate doesn't have to go through this shit...although he would've been better at it than me. I sat at a desk or in court. Nothing that would help me now."

"How the hell would you even know you'd be frozen in the vault and wake up to all this? Don't beat yourself up about it. You just gotta be real crazy or real tough to survive out here. Least, that's what worked for me."

The ghoul leaned over to pick up the still lit cigarette from beneath the couch and popped it between his lips with a grin.

"I don't know. Sometimes I think Shaun and I would be better off dead, like Nate," Betty said without pause.

"Hey, don't say that. You've already done more shit for the people than most wastelanders have, and the reality is your boy is out there and we're gonna find him."

"What's your story, Hancock? How'd you end up as mayor of an anarchist town?" Betty asked as she moved to the very edge of the couch. Diverting attention to his past would keep him at bay for the time being.

"My favorite subject," he replied as he rubbed his hands together. "I came into Goodneighbor about...oh, a decade ago? Had a smooth set of skin back then that made the ladies swoon. While I was busy making myself a grand pillar of the community, I would go on these...like...wild tears. I was young and a bit of a shithead as most young bucks tend to be at that age. Any chems I could find, the more exotic, the better. Finally found this experimental radiation drug. Only one of its kind left, and only one hit. Didn't know it would turn me, though."

"Did it hurt? When you changed?" she asked, curious.

"Oh man, the high was so fuckin' worth it. Sometimes, I even go to the memory den and relive it in all its glory. Yeah, I'm living with the side effects, but hey, what's not to love about immortality?"

"Immortal?" Betty asked with wide eyes. "You must be joking."

Hancock blew out a cloud of smoke and explained, "Well...not exactly. Ghouls just age really, _really_ slow. I mean, if I got shot in the head, I'd be done for like anyone else. Must be somethin' about the rads...rads'll hurt you, but feel good for me. Heals up wounds and everything, but it can take a while. Life ain't too good for us ghouls, though. Most wastelanders can't stand the sight of one. Diamond City doesn't even allow them in anymore."

"I guess all that chem use definitely prepared you for a career in politics, then," Betty scoffed as the ghoul reached for yet another Med-X.

Hancock sat upright, his dark eyes cold before he replied, "You know, for a lawyer, you sure like to play judge. People respect me out here because I don't put myself above them, all right? I sling and shoot up just like the next fuckin' guy. So, before you bring me down, is there anything else you'd like to judge me on?"

Betty narrowed her eyes and her fingers inched closer to her pistol. "Excuse me?"

"Look, there ain't no other way to put it but you kinda come off like...you're some sort of god damn elitist." The ghoul lifted his arm and pointed at Betty's hand before he snapped, "And don't think I don't notice your hand creepin' toward that gun of yours. You sure you wanna play that game with me? Because I ain't fond of bein' the executioner, no matter how damn good I am at it."

Betty made a grab for the pistol and screamed when a knife appeared and pierced the gun to the cushion right through the trigger. She looked at Hancock, who held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers as her face drained of color.

"A little party trick of mine," he said with cat-like arrogance. "Don't make me do what I don't wanna, softskin. Just quit the whole, pointin' a gun at me thing and we can be friends, ya feel me?"

Betty stood up and knocked Hancock's leg away. She knew it! She knew Hancock would try something. Everyone in this world _was_ the same and the only answer was to kill or be killed.

"Here, you need this shit more than I do, Jesus," Hancock snapped, throwing the med-x at Betty. "Take a load off and relax. If anyone here should be on chems, it's you."

"So what, you're trying to drug me now? And do what?"

Hancock stood up and said, "You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me. The hell is your problem, softskin?"

"Stop calling me that!"

"That's what you're pissed about?" Hancock took a step forward. "All you had to say-"

Betty recoiled behind the couch. Before Hancock uttered another word, she grabbed both her knapsack and rifle, and fled into the ruins. She didn't know where she would go, but she had to get away from that ghoul and everyone else. She would find Shaun without anyone's help.

"Don't be an idiot! It's danger- ah, the hell with it," Hancock shouted to an empty room.

It must have been close to eight or nine in the evening, Hancock wasn't sure as he didn't care much for keeping time, and he sat on the couch once again. He sifted through the pockets of his duster and found a Jet inhaler, unused and pristine. After that fiasco with the softskin, he just wanted to get lit, but as he brought the inhaler to his mouth..he couldn't. Knowing Betty was out there alone and losing her shit didn't sit well with the ghoul, no matter how aggravated he was. He stuffed the Jet back in his pocket and grabbed his shotgun to go after Betty.

"I swear, if this dame ain't worth it, I'll blow my god damn brains out," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Betty felt like such a fool to put her trust in someone who probably hallucinated half of his life away on one chem or another. There had to be something wrong with that ghoul. God knows how many chems she watched him inject into his veins and yet his skill with a blade or a gun was unmatched. Most people would be unconscious or dead if they traded places with him. It was unnerving to know he was capable of anything and she couldn't stand to take that chance any longer.

All that was left was to make a run for Diamond City, and Betty was making great time with regard to that. Until the butt of a shotgun slammed into the pit of Betty's stomach, knocking the wind out of her and sending her to her knees.

With a burning breath, she looked up and saw a raider veteran clad in cage armor, smiling down at her with cruel eyes. He pulled Betty up by her shirt, the stitching giving way, and licked his chapped lips.

"Looky here, boys!" the veteran shouted as dragged his combat knife across Betty's cheek. "Ain't this one a treat?"

"Get the fuck away from me!" Betty hissed as she pushed him away and backed into a stone wall. She made a wild reach for her rifle but it was knocked aside by the veteran.

"Ooh, fiery too? Won't have much fire after I'm done with ya," he said with a snarl. "You'll be lucky if you can shit right by sunrise."

The veteran pinned Betty against a the wall and ripped the sleeve of her jacket. Without pause and a bit of bravery she managed to muster, Betty sank her teeth into his forearm. He reared back in pain and brought down his combat knife with a roar of anger. She grabbed his wrist and held him back, enough to spare her life and vision, but not enough to prevent the blade from slicing down her face from eyebrow to jaw. Never in her life had she felt such blinding pain and terror; it was worse than being shot. This was it, the end of her fight, and for what? A few more seconds of anguish?

Several trash cans toppled over as the veteran moved to attack Betty once more. The raiders turned, pointing their weapons at the source of the newfound chaos, which appeared to be one _really_ shitfaced ghoul.

"It's just some drunk drifter! Get outta here, bitch or you're fuckin' dead!" a raider shouted. The others laughed, lowering their guns.

Betty scrambled away and huddled behind an overturned dumpster. She wiped away the blood from her eye and saw it was no ordinary ghoul, but the mayor of Goodneighbor himself. And god, did he look fucked up beyond comprehension.

"What's happenin', boys? T-this the party?" Hancock slurred. "But where's all the good lookin' dames at?"

Hancock stumbled and fell at the veteran's boots, laughing to himself. The three raiders stood, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do with a drunken ghoul.

He rolled onto his hands and knees, and glanced over at Betty, the left side of her face drenched with blood. It was all the fuel he needed to spark rage that lay dormant in the depths of his heart. "Ohhhh, there's one! Heh, _now_ it's a party."

The ghoul dropped his drunken facade and threw a handful of rubble at the raider veteran, blinding him. He pulled a .44 magnum from his coat and tossed it to Betty before he took to his feet and ripped an assault rifle from the closest raider's arms. The butt of the rifle slammed back into the raider's head, splitting his skull. Betty took aim and managed to shoot the veteran's leg despite shaky hands, enough to turn the attention back onto her.

"Get out of here, damn it!" Hancock shouted to Betty before he aimed the rifle at the raider veteran, who lunged at her. The veteran took several shots to the back before falling. "Go, go, go!"

One last raider, and Betty had a lock on him. As he heaved a sledgehammer towards Hancock, she squeezed the trigger and sent a bullet through the raider's neck.

The ghoul dropped the almost-spent rifle with a clatter and rushed over to Betty, who now slumped over the cold metal of the dumpster lid as her body slid into shock. He pulled her to his chest and walked her toward the fire pit to get a better view of her injury.

"Hancock," was all Betty had the energy to say aloud.

"I gotcha Birdie, s'alright. Here, sit and lemme take a look at that."

He turned her face away from the fire and grimaced. It was worse than he'd imagine. The blade had penetrated deep into her skin, exposing a bit of bone. He'd have to stitch the wound somewhat before he could even use a stimpak.

"You c-came after me," Betty whispered, her voice broken. "Why?"

Hancock swept the matted hair from her forehead and smiled. "Finn was right, ya know. I do have a soft spot for crazy dames."

Betty tried to smile and cried out instead, the pain too unbearable. A gurgle broke the silence in the alley and Hancock narrowed his eyes.

"I'll find somethin' to fix ya up with, but I gotta take care of him first. It'll only be a sec." Hancock stood up and balled his fist before he added, "And don't watch, or ya might never look at me the same way again."

"I won't."

Hancock walked over near the raider veteran, who struggled with his final breaths. The ghoul picked up the revolver he tossed to Betty moments ago and checked the chamber. Four shots, as expected. Despite her promise, Betty turned her head and watched as the ghoul looked over her attacker with interest. He lit a cigarette and ashed over the raider's face every few drags as the man whimpered with pain. When the butt fell from between Hancock's fingers, the ghoul kicked the veteran several times in the ribs until he was out of breath.

"You probably think you're a real tough bastard, don't ya?" said Hancock as he stood over the veteran. "So tough, you were gonna force yourself on that softskin. Big fuckin' mistake."

Hancock aimed at the raider veteran's groin and fired twice, allowing him one last scream of agony before the ghoul chuckled and said, "Heh, not much of a man now."

He pointed at the veteran's chest before he fired the last two shots. Not yet satisfied, he picked up the rifle and emptied what was left in the clip until the veteran's head was an unrecognizable, bloody pulp.

"Done in by the best," said the ghoul, dropping the spent rifle on the dead raider's chest. "Lucky you."

Betty turned away before Hancock noticed her watching him. He was right. She wouldn't look at him the same way ever again and when the ghoul returned to Betty's side with a stimpak and a sewing kit, she grabbed his rough hand and gave it a squeeze. He didn't expect it and smiled down at her before cleaning up the wound with a bit of water, trying to wipe away the blood and dirt as gently as he could.

"Thank you," Betty whispered. "I'm sorry I was such an idiot."

"Welcome. If you ever want me gone or I do some shit that don't fly, you know, all ya gotta do is ask. Don't gotta run off into the unknown again and get killed," he replied. Betty nodded, her eyes blinking back wetness. "Now, I ain't no surgeon but I can close this up. You'll have a scar, though."

"Is it bad?" she asked.

Hancock hesitated, not wanting to lie or upset her, and answered, "Yeah...it's pretty bad, but hey, you're gonna look fuckin' bad _ass_ with a scar like that. New haircut, maybe some ink and you'll fit right in with the rest of us out here."

"Well, I was getting tired of all the staring."

"Oh, don't worry," Hancock assured her as he handed her a flask from his pack. "I'll still be dreamin' about ya, scar and all. Now drink up, so we can get this over with and I can get back to wonderin' what you'd look like in that red coat of mine."

"Let me guess..I'm not wearing anything underneath, am I?" Betty asked with a laugh after chugging most of the rum the flask held.

"Not a stitch," Hancock replied as he pushed the needle through her skin.

She winced, more for the motion of a needle piercing her skin rather than the pain of an amateur surgery. "Does that kind of charisma work out well for you?"

"More often than you'd think, softskin," he said with a glance at her.

Betty waved his thoughts away and said, "You can call me whatever you want, I was just mad back there."

"Good to know."

Hancock finished with her stitches and injected the wound with a stimpak before he helped Betty stagger to her feet.

"Rum do the job?"

"God, more than you know."

"Then let's find somewhere to hit the hay. C'mon, put your arm around me and I'll walk ya."

Hancock grabbed Betty's wrist and pulled her pip-boy close to his face, pushing a few buttons until the flashlight blinked on. He led them further away from the Boston Common, knowing what lurked within the murky pond. The sight of Swan wasn't for the faint-hearted.

"You're a swell guy," said Betty, the rum having gone right to her head.

He laughed. "For a ghoul?"

"No, damn it, for..anyone!" she whispered a bit loudly. "I didn't expect to meet _anyone_ like you. Hence my, uh, poor choices back there. If you didn't follow me, they...they would've-"

"-But I did. Lost ya for a few minutes when you dipped around the comic store. I listened for any noise at all that would lead me to you and then I tripped over those god damn trashcans," Hancock explained before he laughed again. "It was like the universe kicked me right in the ass."

"That was a good, by the way. Even _I_ thought y-you were shitfaced. Now it's just me who's shitfaced. Heh, imagine that," she said before a hiccup overcame her.

Hancock enjoyed this version of Betty as much as the sober one. She might've been a little stuffy but in the end, he was right. She just needed to loosen up a bit. "I caught the theater bug a few years back.. man, was I fucked _up._ Still, I learned a thing or two about workin' on the fly."

Betty laughed to herself. "Geez..could use some of that."

"Fake it 'til you make it, baby."

She stopped to pull a newspaper from a bin and fanned herself with it. Hancock pressed his face into Betty's shoulder and snorted with laughter.

"The hell is so funny?" she asked.

The ghoul gathered some composure before he answered, "You're such a fuckin' lightweight. I bet you get high just _lookin'_ at me."

"Screw y-you, I've done..chems," Betty slurred.

"Oh, you're a bad girl now? Got a ride of choice? I'm more of a mentats ghoul myself. Makes me feel..intellectual."

"All right, all right, so I only smoked pot when I was in law school. You guys still have that shit, right? ..Could go for a joint right about now."

"The fuck is pot? Like, a cooking pot? Heh, didn't think you could get high off-"

"-No, no, it's this..plant that you smoke and...you know what? Never mind. This p-place fuckin' blows."

"In here, Birdie," said Hancock as he pushed open the door to a dress store. "And it ain't all bad out here. Plenty of good folks who want nothing more than a quiet life."

"Birdie? Haven't had someone call me that since gradeschool."

Inside, the ghoul took armfuls of dresses and made two piles behind the counter before he dragged a set of drawers in front of the door. Betty slumped down and stared at the ceiling tiles, the alcohol distorting her vision a bit.

Hancock's grinning face appeared above hers and he asked, "You good?"

"I wish I had a real bed but this is nice too," she whispered.

"Picked out the softest ones for ya."

Betty snorted and swatted him away. "You're so full of it."

They both laughed and he rolled onto his back beside her. If this was even a glimpse of how things could be, Hancock knew that whether they became more than friends in the end or not, he'd never leave her side. It was nice to open up a little.


	10. Christmas Day

**Sorry this took so long! It's a hell of a read, but I had a blast writing it (I hope I did Nick some justice. He's difficult for me to write for some reason). Thank you so much for your reviews, follows, and favorites! It makes my day when those emails pop up on my phone. Enjoy!**

* * *

Hancock and Betty stood around the corner from Diamond City while they brainstormed all the ways they could both get in without any headache. Too late for Betty in that regard, since she woke up with a hangover headache that pounded with every beat of her heart. It also didn't help that Hancock slept like he was dead, so much so that Betty panicked and woke him from his slumber by throwing water in his face. A great way to start their day.

"They ain't gonna let me in," said Hancock, a cigarette between his teeth. "Not a chance."

"Bobbi got in," said Betty with a smirk. "Are you saying she was better than you?"

"How?" he demanded.

"She wore this full-faced gas mask-"

"-Fuck that, I ain't ashamed. I go as is or not at all."

Betty put her hands on her hips and asked, "Could we at least try? Maybe just stand there quietly, although I can only imagine how hard that must be for you. To be quiet."

Hancock nodded and said, "All right, I'm game. Let's try our luck."

They walked up to the ticket counter and waited for the ter in front of them to be let in before Betty stepped forward with what she hoped was a sweet smile. "Two traders coming in," she said.

The guard looked up and gave Betty a once over with before he nodded and said to Hancock, "Hey buddy, turn around so I can get a look at ya."

Hancock glanced at Betty before he turned with a sigh. The ghoul wondered how many insults he could take today before going on a little, bigot killing spree. The guard took one look at Hancock and shook his head.

"You know the rules. No ghoul freaks in Diamond City," said the guard in a dry voice.

Hancock lit a fresh cigarette and made sure to take the heaviest drag possible before he blew the cloud into the guard's booth, sending the man into a coughing fit. "Waste of time, Birdie."

Her stomach dropped to the floor. How would they get in now? She tried to think of something to say, maybe try a bribe, anything that could convince the guard to let them pass when it hit her: Mama Murphy's Sight. She told Betty that this would happen, that passage into the city would be denied.

"But...that would mean," she whispered and looked at Hancock again with wide eyes. The ghoul stood less than a foot away from her, spinning his combat knife in his hand over and over again. He glanced at Betty and smiled before asking her what the plan was.

Betty faced the guard and blurted out, "Remember the Quarry and Lilly June on the rocks."

"...You're not havin' a stroke or somethin', right?" Hancock asked her.

The guard stared at Betty with utter shock and whispered, "I don't know how the hell you know about that, but if anyone asks, I wasn't the one who let him in, got it?"

The gates swung open and Betty's heart lodged in her throat. She turned to Hancock, who sifted through his pack in search of his captain's hat out before he slipped it onto his bald head. A pair of leather gloves were next. Finally, he pulled up the collar of his duster. Unless someone stood right beside him, they wouldn't be able to tell he was a ghoul at first glance.

"Ready?" he asked.

A soft smile found its way onto Betty's face and she said, "It's...it's you."

Apparently, Mama Murphy predicted Betty would go from Nate, an upstanding, decorated soldier to Hancock, a drug-slinging mayor who murdered any who slighted him. But, like Nate, Hancock was kind and quite charming beneath his rough exterior.

"Uh, yeah? Somethin' wrong?"

"No, it's...I was told this would happen and that...you'd be here with me. That's how I knew what to say," she explained.

"Who told ya that, a psyker? Always wanted to meet one of those," Hancock replied.

"An old woman back at one of the settlements, Mama Murphy, says she has something called the Sight. She sees things when she takes chems and they all seem to be coming true."

"Gotta party with her when we head over in that direction," he said.

Inside, the city was illuminated with strands of festive, twinkling red and green lights, along with decorated trees strung with ribbons and ornaments. After two hundred years of war, death, and Hell...Christmas still managed to make an appearance. It almost drove her to tears. She never had the chance to spend a Christmas with Shaun.

"Must be Christmas soon," Betty said in a low voice.

"It's today," Hancock said with confidence.

Betty looked back at the ghoul, who tore off a piece of mistletoe from the bunch that hung above them and he added, "I used to live here way back when. Residents can only decorate Christmas day. The upper deckers hate it; said decorations were too gaudy, can you believe that shit?"

"That's ridiculous," she told him. "I used to love Christmas season...the lights, spending time with friends and family, eating together. I didn't expect anything at all so this...this is more than a pleasant surprise to see some Christmas spirit."

Hancock held up the bit of leaves and berries between himself and Betty with a smirk before he whispered, "You want a little bit of _my_ spirit in ya?"

"That's the best you could come up with?" Betty asked with a laugh. "I thought you told me you don't tolerate lazy humor."

"S'alright, I get it, business first, pleasure later. Valentine's office is over this way." Hancock tucked the sprig into his coat pocket and looped an arm through Betty's, leading them. The pair had not gotten more than ten feet from the city's entrance when a resident walked past the ghoul and spat at his boots. He rolled his eyes and said, "Was wonderin' how long that shit would take. Not even five minutes in this dump..."

Betty moved to grab the man's arm as she snapped, "What the fuck is your problem?" and was surprised when Hancock held her back.

"He ain't worth it and it don't bother me as much as ya think," Hancock said.

"That's right, get the hell outta here!" said the resident.

The ghoul grit his teeth and shoved a bag of caps toward Betty as he murmured, "I'll wait out front, you get the gear and meet with Valentine. His office is behind the shops."

Hancock turned to leave, the resident almost doubled over with laughter, believing he had won this minor confrontation. Betty's blood boiled to witness Hancock be treated like less than nothing, when in reality, he meant a lot to her and many others. He had been there for her, saved her from the raiders even after she threatened to shoot him, and never asked for anything in return. There was no way she would let him walk away defeated. He would do the same for her.

"Wait!" she called out.

When Hancock stopped and looked back at her, dark eyes glazed with what fleeting shame he felt, Betty threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. She never felt a hunger so fierce and ravenous. A low groan escaped her as Hancock wrapped an arm around her waist, his free hand twisted in her raven hair, and pulled her closer as she pressed herself against him. He kissed her as if it were his last act on earth; a kiss filled with fervor, lust, and longing, and Hancock swore that he was the luckiest son of a bitch to exist.

Mama Murphy was right again. Hancock was not at all who Betty expected. The resident, put off by their display, walked off and swore under his breath.

"Fuckin' hell, Birdie," said a breathless Hancock. "You know, if you wanna give these assholes an encore-"

"-I'm good for now, t-thanks," Betty stammered, and she walked towards the marketplace.

Hancock pulled the collar up on his duster with the now-crushed mistletoe dangling from his pocket and smiled. "Keep tellin' yourself that, softskin. I don't mind the wait."

He caught up to Betty and her face went flush once more at the sight of him. "Look, I gotta warn ya about Nicky before we get to his office. He's a little...different. Just don't freak out when you see him."

The marketplace was not as busy as Betty thought it would be, which worked in their favor. The pair, along with a few residents, watched as a shrill, dark-haired woman shouted out that her shop was "Synth Free!" and that no synths would ever be allowed to purchase from her. Many of the locals clapped at her words.

"Synths...you talked about them during one of your speeches. What are they?" Betty asked.

"Synths are just like you and me, only they didn't get created the natural, fun way. No, they were built by the Institute. Some can pass for human," Hancock answered. "Rumor is the Institute uses some of them as spies but I dunno about all that."

"Why do people hate them so much?"

Hancock shrugged his shoulders and said, "Probably the same reason most people hate other folk. They're scared. 'Course there's bad synths, but there's also bad humans and bad ghouls. If that's true, then there's good synths, too. It's how I see it, anyhow. No reason to wipe 'em from existence over a few bad eggs."

She nudged his ribs with a grin and asked in a whisper, "Are you one of those bad ghouls?"

"I'm their god damn king," he growled in her ear.

Betty's face betrayed her yet again with its flush and Hancock chuckled to himself before he wandered over to Commonwealth Weaponry.

After that unexpected but very much welcomed kiss, the ghoul's ego was through the roof and he decided to try his luck a few more times today. He waited until the counter was clear before he made his move. When the shop owner turned with bewildered eyes, Hancock tossed a heavy bag of caps on the counter before he said in a low voice, "Caps are caps, coming from man or ghoul, you feel me?"

The shopkeeper looked around before he whispered, "Make it quick. What do you need?"

"My partner, that lovely gal over there," Hancock nodded toward Betty, "she got me in a...festive, sorta mood. Got anything special in the assault rifle department? That old rifle of hers ain't any good for the kinda work we're gettin' into."

The vendor, Arturo, pulled an assault rifle from beneath the counter and the ghoul's eyes lit up. "I've been working on this beauty for a while, now. Explosive mod, a powerful automatic receiver, bayonet, and a short scope. 1500 caps and it's hers."

"I'll give ya 2000 if you can wrap it up in some burlap," said Hancock with a smirk. "Wanna keep it a surprise 'til later."

"Done. Give me a few minutes and it'll be ready."

Hancock caught up with Betty as she left the chem stand with a handful of stimpaks and Rad-Away.

"Need anything else?" he asked.

"I have some scrap to trade and things like that, why?"

"Just gonna head over to the bar around the corner. Friends with the owners. It's on the way to Nicky's office so come find me when you're ready."

Betty nodded and watched as Hancock made one last trip to the weapon vendor, picked up a burlap-wrapped package without a word, and tossed the bag of caps he kept in his duster pocket on the counter. She peeked into most of the shops and traded all her scrap for a new haircut and an eagle tattoo on her neck. When she looked at herself in the mirror, Betty almost didn't recognize herself, and that was the goal. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail with the sides and back of her head shaved bald. Factor in the new ink and a scar across her face that hadn't yet begun to heal, and she passed as a gun for hire, not pre-war princess. Now, she felt ready to face anything.

* * *

The Dugout Inn was lively, even so early in the morning. Betty found Hancock sitting by himself at the end of the bar, four beers deep, as he laughed with the bartenders.

"Let me buy you a drink," said Betty as she slid onto the bar stool beside the ghoul.

Hancock barely gave her a glance at first and said, "Nah, I'm good thanks, just waitin' for my..god _damn_ , Birdie."

"Waiting for your what now?" she asked, a bit proud that garnered such a reaction from him.

"Apparently, my smokin' hot partner," he replied. "You see this, Vadim? This is who I wake up to now. Ain't I a lucky bastard?."

The bartender took one look at Betty and said, "How much you pay for her, Hancock?"

Hancock erupted with hysterical laughter as Betty groaned and said, "Aw man, I look like a hooker?"

"No, no! Is not that you look like prostitute, is that even Hancock cannot, eh, gain favor with someone so beautiful unless he pays like the rest of us," Vadim assured her.

"Oh, give me a break."

"-And a beer," Hancock interrupted.

"-No, no beer, but I'll take a water, thank you." She turned to her partner and said, "It's ten in the morning."

"And? That just means you gotta catch up." He finished off his drink and said, "You really do look good, you know."

"Hooker good or regular good?" she asked, a bit of sarcasm in her voice.

Hancock turned her away from the bar and nodded towards a stunning one-eyed mercenary woman, her arms splattered with tattoos, who stood in the corner before he rested his chin on Betty's shoulder. The mercenary was surrounded by men and women alike who fawned at every word of her tale. "Like, you give her a run for her money, good."

"I-I could never be like her."

"You got it in you, I can tell, and my eyes don't miss a thing. Ready to meet Nicky?" Hancock asked. Betty nodded her head as her cheeks lost a hint of color and he chuckled. "Don't be nervous, I'm right behind ya."

As they left the Dugout, the marketplace swelled up with double the locals as business began to pick up. Hancock pulled the collar of his duster up as far as he could and led Betty to Valentine's office, a neon heart adorning the sign.

"A glowing heart leads the way," Betty whispered. "She was right again, but how?"

"I wouldn't try to understand. Psykers are a whole 'nother level. Probably best to just go with it," said Hancock. Betty reached for the door and the ghoul shoved past her. "Trust me, I should go in first."

Betty followed behind as Hancock took a breath and opened the door with a flourish. Betty rolled her eyes and wondered if she'd ever get used to the ghoul's dramatics. At least he was entertaining. The office was smaller than Betty imagined, most of the space taken up by filing cabinets bursting with yellowed papers and wrinkled manila folders.

"Nicky! My man, where you at?" Hancock announced. "Could do without the shooting this time, got a guest with me!"

"I thought you and this detective were friends," said Betty.

"Key word there is 'were.' We _were_ friends, but had a...minor falling out."

A frazzled woman, her hair twisted into a bun high on her head walked down a small set of stairs, her arms filled with thick folders. A few began to slip from the top of the pile and Betty caught them before they fell.

"Mr. Hancock? Didn't expect to see you again after...well, you know," said the woman.

"Not here to cause any trouble, Miss Perkins. My partner needs Valentine's help," Hancock explained. "Betty, this is Ellie Perkins, Nick's secretary. Miss Perkins, Betty Parker."

"It's lovely to meet you, but I'm afraid you're too late though. Office is closed."

Betty's heart sank and Hancock asked, "Closed? The hell for? Where's Nick?"

"He's gone missing. Haven't seen or heard from him since he started working the Skinny Malone case."

"Jesus, Nicky went after _him_ alone?" Hancock asked. Betty gave him a puzzled look and the ghoul clarified, "Huge mob boss from Goodneighbor. As you can imagine, he and I don't exactly get along."

"Malone kidnapped a young girl and Nick tracked her down to their hideout at Park Street Station," Ellie explained." There's an old vault there they use as a base. I told Nick he was walking into a trap but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does."

"I'll bring him back, Miss Perkins. You have my word," Hancock assured her. He smiled at Betty, whose color faded by the second at the thought of going after a mob boss and said, "Ready for some real action?"

* * *

Outside the city, Hancock stopped Betty and began to unwrap the burlap package he carried.

"Was gonna give you this later on tonight but I thought it'd do us some good now, 'specially since we're messin' with Skinny Malone," Hancock explained. He handed Betty the assault rifle in all its new, stainless steel glory and said, "Merry Christmas, softskin. Let's fuck some shit up."

"Are you serious? This must've cost a fortune!" she said.

"Worth every cap."

Betty wrapped her arms around Hancock and hugged tightly as she shouted "thank you, thank you!" over and over again.

"Go on, give her whirl," Hancock said. "The door across the street from us."

Betty took aim and fired, the explosive shots annihilating both the door and the brick mortar surrounding it. Her mouth hung agape in utter wonderment.

"God damn," he said, his voice rough. "That just made me a little hard."

"Why am I not surprised? And you're not going to believe this, but I got you something too, only please don't use them until later?" She pulled a handful of chems out from her pack, along with a pair of patrolman aviators. "The chems dealer said these are pretty rare and the sunglasses are for hangovers, when the light's too bright. Learned that trick in law school. I shouldn't be proud of that, but I totally am."

"Christ...Day-Tripper, Overdrive and X-cell? Haven't had these in a couple years! Man, tonight's gonna be insane. You might wanna keep me on a short leash. And these shades," Hancock said as he put them on, "are bitchin'."

"Glad you like them, though they can't possibly compare-"

"-Not another word. That ain't how presents work," said Hancock before he lifted her off her feet with his embrace. He set Betty back on the ground and kissed the top of her head before he said, "Seriously, thank you, Birdie. Between this and your boss display of, heh, public affection earlier made my day. Year, even."

"Oh god, you're never going to let me forget that, are you?" she asked.

"Not a chance."

The sky was clear and a lovely shade of blue. Truth be told, the day bordered on perfection, which gave Betty a bit of extra hope they would find Nick and bring him back without too much trouble. She knew in her heart that by the end of the day, however, there'd be a trail of bodies left in their wake. As the pair walked towards Park Street Station, Hancock explained to Betty that he and Skinny Malone had been butting heads for the past few years, although neither party was eager to attack the other for fear of destroying the entirety of Goodneighbor. Now that Hancock had the drop on Malone, he'd get rid of mobster for good.

"Park Street Station," Betty said to herself as they arrived. "Should we try to sneak in or-"

"-We go in guns blazin', softskin. Might scare a few of 'em off with your present there."

Hancock gave Betty and himself a once over before he decided there was no time like the present. He pulled a grenade from his pocket, pulled the pin with his teeth and rolled it down the broken escalator. When the ensuing explosion shook below, a cloud of dust and debris drifting out, he rushed downstairs with Betty close behind.

"They're here for the detective, ice 'em!" yelled one of Malone's men.

"Merry fuckin' Christmas, assholes!" Hancock shouted before he blasted a triggerman's head clean off his shoulders. "Man, that's gotta be better than crossin' the Delaware."

"Didn't take you for a history buff," said Betty before she ducked while a triggerman swung his empty submachine gun at her.

"An educated man is feared out here," he said. He kicked one of Malone's men to the concrete and shot a slug into his chest. "And I ain't one to fuck with."

Betty kept up with the ghoul, mowing down several triggermen down with a single clip.

"Shit, it's Hancock! We need backup in here!"

"Gonna need a Fat Man to take me out!" Hancock shouted. With a glance at Betty, he added, "Better make that two of 'em!"

Betty grabbed Hancock's shoulder and pulled him behind a pillar as a fresh set of triggermen rushed the room. She stuck out her assault rifle and shot blind, the explosive mod doing its job and killing several more goons. He pulled her close to his chest as a growl of satisfaction rumbled into his throat, the pillar a shelter from the hail of bullets.

The pair cleared the room and continued down several stairwells in their search for Detective Valentine until the reached the subway tracks and another firefight. This time, it was Betty who rushed ahead, bullets flying every which way.

A triggerman, hidden behind a blockade, snatched Betty's wrist and before Hancock could reach for his throwing knife, she kneed the man in the groin before bringing down the weight of her rifle on his neck. With the help of a few more grenades, the tracks were littered with the remains of triggermen, some not entirely whole.

"Should be over this way," said Hancock after giving Betty a few minutes to loot for ammo. He smiled at her and said, "You ain't too bad at this. Proud of ya, softskin."

"This gun is fucking unreal," Betty said, out of breath. "I really do love it."

"Meant to tell ya back at the city, but...I kinda dig it when you say 'fuck,'" he said. All Betty could do was shake with laughter.

Betty cleared the vault entrance on her own as Hancock stayed behind, making a mental note here and there to help Betty improve on later. Too much hesitation on the killing blow, a bit overzealous at the charge.

"Your back!" he barked, loud and true, over the deafening gunshot and screams of triggermen. Betty turned and drove the bayonet on her rifle into the stomach of a triggerman. "Good move, two more!"

Betty fired a few rounds and the subway grew silent, a tomb for what was left of the mayhem.

"You did damn fine there. Don't rush in right away next time, and you'll see there's usually a better shot you can go for," said Hancock. "When I learned that, it was smooth sailing."

"I knew there was a good reason to keep you around," she said as she wiped her brow.

"Said I'd show ya the ropes." The ghoul looked over the controls of the vault door and asked, "Think you can get this open?"

Betty plugged in her Pip-boy and a manual override later, the massive door of solid lead and steel screamed open.

"Never been in a vault before!" Hancock shouted over the noise.

"Nothing to write home about!" Betty answered.

A walkway extended out and aligned with the entrance and when it locked into place, Hancock strolled in with Betty on his left. A triggerman stood by a shelf, his back to the pair. Hancock held a finger to his lips and his partner nodded as he handed her his shotgun. The ghoul crept up behind the triggerman and without warning, reached out and snapped his neck, the body toppling into the shelf with a loud crash.

"Jesus, Hancock," Betty whispered, a bit pale.

"I know, right? I was tryin' to be quiet and he had to fuck it up," he said as he took back his shotgun.

When the pair found the door to Vault 114 locked, they were forced to go the long way around, down a series of hallways and a corridor that emptied out to an unfinished area of the vault. Hancock urged Betty forward and tapped the scope of her assault rifle.

"Pick off as many as you can from up here," the ghoul whispered as he peeked over the railing. Don't worry about anythin' else, I got your back, and remember what I told ya."

Betty looked through the scope and counted seven of Malone's goons. "Who's the better shot?" she muttered to herself. She made her choice and took aim at a triggerman carrying an assault rifle similar to hers. He'd be trouble for them...unless she killed him first.

"Don't hesitate," Hancock said. "These guys wouldn't hesitate to kill you first."

She squeezed the trigger and when the bullet pierced the triggerman's chest, all hell broke loose. With Betty still using her scope to pick off enemies, he wrapped a few fingers around her belt loop and guided her down the platform and behind the cover of several large, metal tubes. He stood up and rushed a few feet ahead, shooting off slug after slug.

With the triggermen losing the battle, some chose to flee and Hancock took great joy in shooting them before all others. "Fuckin' cowards, come back and fight me!"

"You enjoy goading them, don't you?"

"Almost too much, softskin."

The platform led the pair to another room where the only way to go was to drop down an air shaft, a fall that could cripple either of them with ease.

"I'll drop first, and then you follow me down when the coast is clear. Make sure to keep an eye out when I do; we might've missed one or two out there."

Hancock strapped his shotgun to his back and held his combat knife between his teeth before he lowered himself down the air shaft. Arms extended, he let go before he landed on his feet, knees weak for a moment before he stood up and saw the room was empty.

"Now hold on to the ledge and drop down like I just did," Hancock shouted up the air shaft. "Hang down as far as ya can before you let go. Bit of a fall, there."

"I never had the chance to tell you this but...I'm a little afraid of heights," Betty said, her voice a few octaves higher than normal. "Falling to my death, really."

"You gotta be shittin' me."

"No, no I shit you not."

Hancock chuckled and said, "Ain't got a choice now, Birdie. Toss your rifle down so you don't gotta worry about it. I'm right here, I gotcha."

He caught the rifle with ease and lay it on a desk beside him before he motioned for Betty. She climbed over the ledge, her knuckles turning stark white with her grip. She stretched out her arms and closed her eyes before she let go. Even two literal seconds of free fall was enough to speed her heart up. Hancock caught her before she hit the floor and helped her stand steady on her feet. "Not so bad, right?"

Betty picked up her rifle from the desk and took a seat to catch her breath before she answered, "I could've done without that, but..yeah. Thanks."

Down the short hall, was a door leading directly into the vault. Inside, Betty peeked through a glass window as Hancock checked down the hall for any more trouble.

"See anything?" he asked in a loud whisper.

"One guy, in front of that window up there; I can take him out with the rifle before we go in."

"Likin' that confidence! Show me how it's done, softskin."

At the end of the hall, Hancock opened the door and Betty took aim. She held her breath and when the crosshairs of her scope met with the triggerman's head, she breathed out and squeezed the trigger, obliterating him.

Hancock cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "Man...this chub just won't quit. Gonna have to do somethin' about that."

Betty shook her head and pushed him through the door as she hissed, "For the love of Christ, you can rub one out later, we have shit to do!"

Hancock leaned against the wall and clutched his sides with laughter. Betty walked ahead and stepped over the now headless body of the lone triggerman guarding the floor. Behind the glass, a room was dark as night until the flash of lighter illuminated the man within, a plume of smoke enveloping him. The ghoul studied Betty's reaction, and she cocked her head as she watched the man behind the window.

"We got about three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain't coming back. Get this door open," the man in the room demanded.

Hancock nodded towards the terminal beside the door and asked her, "You a hacker, too?"

"Something like that," she said as she pulled a bobby pin from her hair and bent down to peer at the lock on the door.

She dug around her pack until her fingers found a red, plastic screwdriver and with both tools, picked the lock on the door. Hancock raised his would-be brow and said, "Well, well..nimble, ain't ya?"

"Told you I wasn't _that_ much of a good girl."

A light flickered on, but the room appeared empty at first glance.

"He was just here!" Betty whispered.

Hancock walked into the room and a shadow rushed him, an arm around his neck and the barrel of a gun at the ghoul's temple.

"Nicky! It's me, it's Hancock!" the ghoul sputtered as he tried in vain to pull Nick's arm away from his throat.

"Oh, I know it's you, John," said Valentine, his voice dark. "A knight in shining armor. But the question is..why does he come all this way, risk life and limb, for an old private eye?"

"Let him go or I'll shoot!" Betty shouted as shoved her assault rifle in Valentine's face. His eyes...his eyes weren't right and she couldn't help but gasp in shock at this being who was more machine than man.

"Birdie, wait!" Hancock groaned as reached out with his hand to stop her. "God damn it, Nick, she don't know what you are! Talk to me!"

Nick Valentine dropped Hancock to the ground and pointed his gun at Betty instead. The ghoul struggled to his feet and threw himself in front of her, arms outstretched. "No, not her! Kill me and let her go if you're gonna kill someone. I deserve it a little bit."

"A _little_ bit, John?" Nick asked.

"Okay, a lot of bit," Hancock replied. With a slow, careful hand, he pushed up the barrel of Betty's rifle and whispered to her, "Birdie...put the heat away. His beef's with me, not you."

Betty refused and shouted over Hancock's shoulder, "What the _fuck_ are you? Disable current program! Delete system 32!"

Hancock doubled over with laughter he couldn't contain and managed to choke out, "Nicky, don't mind her. She ain't from here, really."

"Didn't expect a pair of clowns to come to my rescue." Nick shook his head and added, "Did you steal this one away from someone else, too?"

"Look, I don't know how else to put it. That shit is done and over with. Been done for years now, and I ain't been alone with Irma since. So no, it ain't like that with me and Betty, here...though I wouldn't mind one fuckin' bit, she's a peach, ain't she?" Hancock looked over to his partner, who still had her rifle aimed at Nick and yanked the gun from her hands. "Relax, killer."

Without missing a beat, Betty ripped Hancock's .44 magnum from his holster and took aim at Nick Valentine's face with a scowl. The synth blew out a cloud of smoke before he said, "More nightshade than peach, I'd say."

"I won't let you kill him," Betty said to Nick. "Point that gun at him again, and you and I are going to have some serious fucking issues."

"Protective, too, of the ones she cares for. You must be a mother," said Valentine.

"I am. Spare Casanova over here and help me find my son...please," said Betty. "He was kidnapped, but I don't have much to go on. I'll pay you whatever you want."

The detective lowered his weapon with a hard glance at Hancock, who turned away sheepishly and said to Betty, "Missing kid, huh? Well, you came to the right man. If not the right place. I've been cooped in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak. Let's blow this joint and we'll talk more about your son."

Valentine tossed the cigarette butt aside and marched past Betty. Hancock urged her to follow and she whispered, "What is he?"

"Second gen prototype synth," Valentine answered over his shoulder.

"Bastard's got good ears, so no point in whisperin'," said Hancock.

The pair followed Nick down a few halls and corridors until at the bottom floor, the synth stopped and announced, "I hear more of Malone's boys up ahead. How do you wanna play this?"

"Hard and loud, just how I like it," Hancock replied with a wink for his partner.

Betty covered her face with her hand and Nick asked her, "How can you stand this guy?"

"I don't know, but he's getting worse by the hour," Betty said with a smirk.

"More fun for me, then," said Hancock before he stepped out, shotgun in one hand, a .44 in the other and shouted, "Missed me?"

"With every bullet so far," Nick said under his breath.

Betty and the detective followed, guns out and ready as they unloaded their clips on the triggermen.

"That ghoul may be a thorn in my side, but he gets the job done," Nick admitted to Betty. "Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors."

They followed Valentine until a jammed door blocked their way, the button to open it shorted out. Hancock whistled and said, "Nicky, come get this, would ya?"

Betty watched the synth push back his battered fedora and examined the button for a moment before he tore off the cover to it with ease, exposing the wiring beneath. He stuck his skeletal, metal hand into the wires and felt for something before he yanked out a red wire, opening the door. The group passed through the living quarters, killing a couple of triggermen on the way.

Finally, they came to a door that would lead them back to Park Street station and Valentine put his ear to it before he said, "I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side of here. Once we step through the door, get ready for anything."

"Get behind me," Hancock said to Betty through gritted teeth. "This ain't the time for practice...and I'm gonna murder that piece of shit."

"You sure that's wise, John?" Nick asked.

"If I had it my way, there'd be a lot less tyrants." The ghoul cocked his shotgun and said, "Open the door, Nicky, and lemme start with Malone."

When they walked through the door, Skinny Malone stood in their way, waiting for them with a venomous smile. His goons pointed their guns at Nick and Hancock who weren't shy about pointing theirs back, and Betty peeked out from behind the ghoul's shoulder.

"Hancock, what're you doin'? You come into my house. Shoot up my guys. You have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?" Malone asked the ghoul. "Tell ya what. Hand over that pretty little thing hidin' behind ya and we'll get back to being square. The boys could use some fun."

"You touch a hair on her head and I'll tear your fuckin' heart right outta your chest," Hancock snarled. Betty pressed her cheek against his back, a silent thank you on her part.

"None of us would be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to tell her to write home more often," said Nick.

A young woman in a short, sequined dress laughed as she held an oak baseball bat over her shoulder and said, "Aww...poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I'll just run back home to Daddy, shall I?

"Shoulda left it alone, Nicky. You too, Hancock. This ain't the old neighborhood. In this Vault, I'm king of the god damn castle, you hear me?" Malone shouted, silencing the room. "And I ain't lettin' some private dick, a rottin' degenerate, and his little floozy of the week shut us down now that I got a good thing goin'!"

Both Hancock and Betty took aim and fired their weapons until there wasn't much left of Malone or his goons. The young woman stared at the bodies a bit shaken before she walked up to Hancock and backhanded him, her slap loud and sharp.

Betty shoved her partner aside and reared back before she punched the woman square in the jaw, knocking her out cold. She moved toward the woman again, arm cocked, and Nick held her back. "That's enough!"

Hancock rubbed his jawline and said, "Damn, Birdie. That was hot."

Nick nudged the dead mob boss with his foot and said, "So much for Skinny Malone." He looked at Hancock and asked him, "Think he's lighter or heavier with all those holes in him? Bullets probably add a few ounces."

"Don't matter now." Hancock stood over the corpse and spat on it. "Here's to all the old days, you fat fuck."

Nick heaved the young woman over his shoulder and said, "Let's get out of here. There's a service ladder we can use that goes right to the surface. I'm going to bring Darla here back to her parents and I'll meet you both at my office. Thanks for breaking me out, to both of you."

"Does this mean we're friends again, Nicky?" Hancock asked with a grin.

The synth nodded his head and replied, "It's a start."


	11. Nothing Will Stop Me

**Hey guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks for all the follows and favorites! (Didn't realize this was so long a chapter. Sorry?)**

* * *

Betty and Hancock trudged back toward Diamond City, exhausted from the fight within the hidden vault of Park Street Station. Betty's hand was wrapped in a ruined shirt, torn from the body of a triggerman on their way back to the surface. By the time they left the vault, dusk settled in and the trip back to the city was now a risky one.

"How's the hand?" Hancock asked her.

"Sore, but worth it."

"You sure you don't wanna a stimpak for it?"

Betty shook her head and replied, "I want to savor it a little more. When we get back to Nick's office, I'll patch it up."

Hancock knew she wasn't comfortable with fighting someone up close and personal, but she seemed proud of that surprisingly good right hook that laid out Malone's girl. As she should be. It was nice to know Betty wasn't afraid to stand up for him, even if he didn't need her to. He lit two cigarettes at once and handed one to her, which she took with a grateful smile.

"One of the best smokes of the day is the one after a good brawl," he said.

She blew out a cloud of smoke and asked, "You don't have to answer but what did you and Nick fight about?"

Hancock frowned, which Betty wasn't used to and he explained, "On our little tour you remember that place I showed ya, the Memory Den? This dame, Irma, she runs the place. She and I had a thing for a few weeks, but I had no idea Nicky was sweet on her. He never talks about that sorta shit. Came over to see her one day...only I was there, too. Can't blame the guy. I mean, you see the gal you love on her knees for someone you called friend...that's enough to piss anyone off. Broke it off with her right then but the damage was done. Sucks losing your best friend, especially to some dame that didn't even matter."

The pair made good time reaching the outskirts of the city before it became too dark. Now, they faced the dilemma of getting Hancock into Diamond City again.

"Did you ever try to apologize?"

"Too many times, but he didn't wanna hear any of it."

"That's because I wasn't ready to," a voice behind them said. The pair turned and saw Nick Valentine come around the corner. "Just got back from dropping off the girl. Follow me through the gates and they shouldn't give you any trouble. John, if you could wear this until we get to my office, I'd appreciate it."

The synth tossed Hancock a black bandanna and the ghoul glanced at it before he said, "I ain't coverin' up."

Nick pointed at Betty and said, "You want to help your peach here? Then put your pride away for five minutes and put that on instead."

"Wait, he shouldn't-" Betty began to say.

"-No. Nicky's right. It's just a few minutes," said Hancock as he wrapped the bandanna around his face, leaving only his dark eyes free.

With Nick leading the way, Diamond City security didn't even lift their heads before opening the gates. A few of the residents stopped to shake Nick's hand, welcoming him back to the city.

"Nick's a synth, but they aren't afraid of him here?" Betty asked Hancock.

"There's still folks that hate him, but he's done a lot of good including rescuing the former mayor's daughter from raiders when I was younger."

Once they were inside Nick's office, the synth called out, "Ellie? Are you here?"

Betty and Hancock smiled as Valentine's secretary rushed down the wooden stairs and hugged him with all her strength.

"Oh god, it's really you!" she said to Nick.

Valentine smiled at her, the first Betty had seen from the detective, and said to Ellie, "Well, it's hard to mistake this mug for anyone else."

"If you keep laughing at Death, some day, Death's going to laugh back," she replied.

The detective smiled again and said, "Not as long as I got a few friends to back me up...that means you too, John. We're all right now."

The ghoul nearly leapt over the desk and threw himself at Nick for a bear hug. "Aw man, I missed ya, pal!"

Nick stood still for moment before he gave Hancock a rough pat on the back and said, "I'll admit, there were a few times I got caught in a scrap and knew it would've been different if you were there."

Ellie hugged the ghoul as well and said, "Welcome back, Mr. Hancock. You saved Nick, this agency, and my job. Thank you both so much."

"Not a problem. You're a sweet kid and it's great to be back in here," Hancock said with a tug on her ponytail.

"You know...if you don't mind putting on a detective hat instead of your usual, Nick could sure use a new partner, Mr. Hancock," Ellie said with a grin.

Valentine held up his hand and said, "Whoa, one case at a time, Ellie. John's partner needs our help, first. Please, take a seat and let's get down to business Miss...?"

Betty sat down across from the detective and answered, "Betty Parker."

"All right Miss Parker. When you're trying to find someone who's gone missing, the devil is in the details. Tell me everything you can, no matter how...painful it might be," said Nick, his voice kind.

Betty looked up at Hancock, who was perched on the corner of the desk and he nodded before she began her tale. He hadn't asked her the details of what happened, as he wasn't the type to pry. He figured she'd tell him when she was ready.

"I guess I'll start from the beginning," Betty began to explain, her voice shaking. "I saw the bombs fall in 2077."

Ellie began to write furiously as Nick sat up and asked, "You're pre-war? How is that possible?"

"Yes. Myself, my husband, and our son were chosen for Vault 111, near Sanctuary Hills. They said it was because of my husband's military service. We were getting ready for a veteran's banquet when the warnings on television and the radio started going off. We ran to the vault, my husband holding our son. After the bombs started to fall, they had us stand in these pods, said they were just going to run a few tests, then...then they froze us."

"Vault-Tec was notorious for sick experiments on the dwellers," Nick said, nodding his head.

"We woke up, I don't know how long after. This man, he and someone wearing a hazard suit opened my husband's pod and tried to take our son from his arms. Nate was..murdered. He was trying to keep them from taking Shaun and that man just...just..."

She had to stop and held her face in her hands as she sniffled, her shoulders shaking with unexpected sobs. Hancock turned away, unable to stand the sight of his partner crumbling with nothing he could do to stop it. He took the bandanna from his pocket and held it out to Betty, which she took and dried her eyes with.

"It's okay, you don't need to say anymore than that," said Ellie in a soft voice as she rubbed Betty's shoulder.

"So, we're talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence. What else?" Nick asked.

Betty took a deep breath and continued her story. "After the man murdered my husband, he looked me right in the eye and said that I was the backup. I'm not sure what he meant about that."

Valentine glanced at Hancock and asked, "Anyone been following you two?"

The ghoul shook his head. "If they were, I would've snuffed 'em by now."

"That just confirms it: whoever took your son had an agenda. Babies need a lot of care and the kidnapper referring to you as backup means it was planned. There's a lot of groups that take people. Raiders, super mutants, the Gunners, and of course, there's the Institute," Nick explained.

"So you think this Institute is responsible?" she asked.

"Well, they're the boogeyman of the Commonwealth as John likes to call them. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got the newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows. Worst of all, no one knows why they do it, what their plans are, or even where they are. Not even me, and I'm a synth myself. A discarded prototype, anyway. Do you know what the killers looked like?"

Betty nodded and said, "I'll never forget that face. A bit older than me, maybe 40 or 50. Bald, deep voice, and a scar across his left eye, a bit worse off than the one I have now-"

"-Wait," Nick interrupted. "It couldn't be...you didn't hear the name 'Kellogg' at all, did you?"

"Man, I thought he fit that description when Betty mentioned him to me, but I didn't wanna go one way or another in case I was wrong," said Hancock.

Valentine took a pack of smokes from his desk and lit one. Hancock motioned for one as well and the synth tossed him the pack. Nick took a few pulls before he said in a low voice," Hmm...it's way too big of a coincidence...Ellie? What notes do we have on the Kellogg case?"

The secretary walked over to a filing cabinet and sifted through the folders in the top drawer before she answered, "The description matches. Bald, scarred eye, reputation for dangerous mercenary work but no one knows who his employer is."

"And he bought a house here in town, right? Lived there with a kid," said Valentine.

"Yes, that's right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was about ten years old, though."

"He's ten? Oh god, this happened ten years ago...I can't believe it," Betty whispered. Her stomach twisted into a knot so tight she wasn't sure if it could be undone. Ten years she'd never get to spend with Shaun. She felt light-headed until a firm harm clamped down on her shoulder.

"It'll be all right, Birdie. He'll still want his Ma back," said Hancock.

"Is this Kellogg still in town?" Betty asked when she found her voice again.

"They both vanished a while back," Nick explained as he stood up from his desk. "The house is still there. Let's take a look, see if we can snoop out where he went."

* * *

As the Hancock and Betty followed Nick to Kellogg's former home, the detective explained that everything he'd ever dug up on Kellogg before he disappeared was bad news. That he was more than a mercenary and has no enemies because they're all dead, save for Betty.

"You think he'll come after her?" asked Hancock. "I wanna be ready to gut him like a fish."

"Not if I get to him first," said Betty with venom in her words.

"That's the goal. Find Kellogg before he finds you, Betty. Here's the house," said Nick. He twisted the handle on the door but it was locked. He looked about for another way inside and said, "Damn it. Breaking a window would bring attention over to us."

Hancock chuckled and said, "Betty's way ahead of you, Nick.

The sole survivor picked the lock with ease and before she led them inside, Hancock passed her his .44 with a nod. Kellogg's home was mostly empty at first glance, with only a desk and couch on the main floor. There were a few papers scattered about, and Hancock picked them up and searched for any hints, but found none.

When Betty sat behind the desk and reached down to open a drawer, the faint red glow of a button beneath the desk caught her attention.

"Guns out, boys. Just in case," she said before she pressed it.

A wall slid open and revealed another room hidden behind it. Inside were a few cabinets, shelves and an armchair beside a small, corner table.

Hancock picked up a stray .44 bullet from the table and said, "Guess I'm not the only one who prefers this beauty."

Betty looked over her partner's shoulder and said, "Those cigars. I've never seen that brand here in Boston, even before the war."

"San Francisco Sunlights," said Nick as he picked up the box. "Won't lead us anywhere on its own, though."

"What do you suggest?" she asked him.

"Unless you have a dog-"

"-I do! He stays at the settlement Preston and I started at Sanctuary Hills."

"I'm up for a road trip, what say you, softskin?" Hancock asked her.

Betty opened the door to Kellogg's home and fell back against Hancock with a gasp. The ghoul pulled her behind him and took aim with his shotgun, only to see a panting, muddy German Shepherd down his sights.

"Dogmeat!" Betty shouted and her beloved dog bounded past Hancock and Nick to lick at her face and neck.

"Lucky mutt," Hancock said under his breath and Nick elbowed him in the ribs.

"How did you...Mama Murphy, you did it again," Betty said to Dogmeat before she kissed his wet nose. "You came all this way to help me, boy?"

"A Commonwealth mutt like him can track a man's scent for miles. Here," said Nick as he handed Betty one of Kellogg's cigars.

Betty held out the cigar for Dogmeat who sniffed and licked at it several times before he bounded just outside the door, barking madly.

"Hell yes, got 'em!" Hancock said with grin. He scratched behind the shepherd's ears until its tongue rolled out of its mouth. "Good dog."

Betty stood at the doorway in silence, not sure how everything came together so quickly. Dogmeat would find Kellogg and she'd finally be face to face with the bastard who murdered Nate and stole Shaun away. But now, with the mercenary within reach, she was terrified. No enemies alive except her. She wouldn't stand a chance, but with Hancock and Dogmeat at her side, there might be a sliver of hope that she'd be able to walk away with Shaun in her arms.

She turned to Nick and shook his exposed, metal hand. "Thank you so much for your help, detective."

"Stay safe, and stop by the office when you and John find your kid. We'd love to meet him," Nick replied with a smile.

Dogmeat continued to bark and Hancock held out his hand to Betty and said, "Let's go get that asshole, Birdie. By tomorrow, you might have your boy back in your arms."

As soon as their fingers locked together, Dogmeat took off with a wild howl and they chased after him.

* * *

Outside of Diamond City, across a short bridge over the river, Dogmeat slowed his pace and began to sniff intently. Hancock and Betty arrived moments later, out of breath with their hands still entwined. Betty believed the ghoul was being a bit presumptuous about it, until she discovered that whenever she wanted to slow her pace, it was much easier to burn through the pain of straining muscles when someone is pulling you forward.

"What the hell do you feed that thing?" Hancock asked Betty as he leaned against a rusted car.

She shrugged her shoulders and pulled a bottle of water from her pack, drinking about half of it before she tossed the rest to her partner. Dogmeat gave a sharp, alert bark and the pair lifted their heads as he bounded towards Betty.

"You found something, boy? Let's see," she said to her pup.

Dogmeat led the pair over to an overturned box down by the river's edge, and in a dirty ashtray sat a San Francisco Sunlight cigar along with two .44 bullets, the cigar a bit wet from a passing rainstorm, but the label had not yet begun to fade or peel. Hancock reached over and pocketed the two bullets.

Betty picked up the cigar and held it out to Dogmeat. "Find that bastard, boy."

Another wild howl and the pair was on the run again as Dogmeat led them down the train tracks, unused and overgrown with brush. Hours later, the German Shepherd led them down a set of steps and beneath the train overpass. A machine gun turret lay destroyed in front of a service door built into the gray concrete.

"Look!" Betty shouted. Bloody rags hung beside the door and she held them out to Dogmeat.

"Kellogg must've gotten hurt back there," Hancock said as they followed the hound up the side of the overpass and back onto the brush. "Maybe that asshole is crippled and we can have a little bit of fun with him."

"Here's hoping," Betty replied.

Dogmeat led the pair off the train tracks once again and into a large, metal building that creaked and swayed with the breeze. At the bottom of the stairs within stood a make-shift tent and there lay a pair of boots in the darkness. Betty rushed toward the tent, murderous intent on her mind when she heard a faint beeping. Hancock perked up at the sound and in the dark, noticed a minuscule red light beside the boots. There was no time for a warning shout, and the ghoul managed to yank his partner away before the blast went off.

Betty and Hancock fell against the stairs, the ghoul receiving the brunt of the concrete steps digging into his back. She lay across his chest, silent at first as her hearing returned, and she tilted her head back at her now grinning partner.

"Could get used to this, you know," he said.

Betty chuckled and muttered her thanks as she helped him to his feet. Dogmeat whimpered for attention as he sat beside a table with yet another San Francisco Sunlight cigar in the ashtray and .44 bullet on the ground, which the ghoul collected. Still on the right track, thank goodness. They continued across another, longer bridge, tractor trailers and cars broken down and taking up most of the space. Hancock climbed on top of a truck's cab and reached down to pull Betty up while Dogmeat squeezed beneath or between the vehicles.

After walking through a small, quiet town inhabited by a handful of feral ghouls who now lay littered across the streets in pieces, the pair and their dog came upon a caravan that had been ransacked.

"Damn, we missed somethin'," Hancock said in a low voice. An assaultron lay severed in several chunks, its head seemingly on display as it sat on a metal crate. He picked up another Sunlight cigar and held it out to Dogmeat. "Another one of his stogies."

"Error. System corrupt. I can't feel my legs," said the assaultron.

"Don't worry, I gotcha," said the ghoul before he shot the assaultron head with his shotgun. His eyes found another .44 bullet. Now he had five, but was hoping there'd be at least one more-

"-Found another of Kellogg's bullets," said Betty as she sorted through some of the dried leaves beside the crate.

"Yes!" Hancock shouted as he plucked the bullet from her palm. "Full chamber's worth!"

"How far have we gone, you think?" she asked.

"Judgin' by the way my legs feel twenty pounds heavier, must've gone clear across the Commonwealth by now. At least eight or nine hours. Not much of a fan for keepin' time," said Hancock. "We should take a rest before we barge in on Kellogg."

"I don't want to stop just yet," she said. "He feels close."

"Fair enough, still got a little bit of fuel in me. But before we go after him, wherever he is, we gotta stop for at least an hour or two. Try to catch a nap, maybe eat a little something. You don't wanna face a guy like that after running for almost the entire night. You won't make it."

Through hills and wilderness they continued, following Dogmeat who was still hot on Kellogg's trail. Betty's adrenaline had faded by now, and all she felt was the searing pain in her sides and calves from the journey. Even Hancock shot up a Med-X almost every hour to keep his own pain at bay, though Betty had refused his first offer.

They came upon broken fence with more of Kellogg's bloody rags, and Hancock reached out to feel them. "These are leanin' towards the fresh side. He's nearby."

Betty checked her Pip-boy and was floored to see that she and Hancock had indeed traveled across the Commonwealth. The only area of note near to their position was Fort Hagen, where Nate was stationed for a few months before his military discharge.

"He must be in the base...Fort Hagen..it's over that way," Betty said, catching her breath. "It'll be a fortress. Nate was stationed there for a little bit."

"You ever been inside?" asked Hancock.

Betty shook her head and replied, "No. I have no idea what's in there, besides Kellogg, or how to get in. Our house is a little north of here, maybe another two hours by foot. We didn't have to live on base, he just came for work."

"Any ID cards of his that might've survived the bombs?"

"Military took away all those things when he was discharged, unfortunately."

"All right. Let's stop here for now," said Hancock. "We can't just go in blind. Rest up and get somethin' in your stomach."

They settled down in a small thicket behind a boulder. Betty wanted to light a fire and warm her bones, for the chill in the air was enough to take her teeth but it was too much of a risk. Listening to the radio was a similar danger, so the pair sat right beside one another as Dogmeat curled around their boots for warmth. Hancock threw an arm over Betty's shoulder before he pulled her close beneath his coat.

"Should feel warmer right against me. Us ghouls run hot."

Betty smiled when she discovered that he was right. Hancock felt at least ten degrees warmer than the biting, cold air. She pulled out a box of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes and two bottles of water from her pack. She tossed one to Dogmeat, who ate his greedily before she offered one to Hancock.

"Just pop it in my mouth, would ya?" he asked. "Don't have the strength to lift my arms yet."

Betty obliged him before she unwrapped one for herself and ate in silence before she rested her head against her partner's shoulder, eyes closed and in search of rest.

"Can I talk to you? It ain't anything bad," Hancock asked with a voice softer than what Betty was used to by now.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, yeah, it's just the Bobbi thing is still botherin' me some. I ain't proud of having to put you through that."

She scoffed and said, "That's not your fault. Bobbi forced my, and MacCready's, hand when she didn't take the out Fahrenheit gave her. Mel and I were ready to."

"Still, the whole thing was fucked. I should've sent MacCready to stop ya, not encourage it."

"You seem awfully torn up about Bobbi...was there's something between you two?" she asked. It didn't seem like Hancock held a torch for anyone, at least not one that she noticed.

"Nah, nothin' like that at all. I just hate seeing guys like me use their sway to do that kinda harm. Hell, that sorta bull's the whole reason I became mayor in the first place. Some ass named Vic ran the town for I don't know how long before that. Guy was fuckin' scum of the earth. Used us drifters like his own personal piggy bank. He had this goon squad he'd use to keep people in line. Every so often he'd let 'em off the leash and go blow off some steam on the populace at large. Folks with homes could lock their doors, but us drifters, we got it bad. There was one night, some drifter mouthed off to them. They cracked him open like a can of cram on the god damn pavement. And we all...just stood there. Did nothin'."

"You were obviously outmatched. They would've killed you too," she reassured him. "It was smart to not interfere that time. You got to live another day, didn't you?"

"You're right, but it was still a spineless thing to do. Felt like less than nothin'. Afterwards, I got so high, I blacked out completely. When I finally came to, I was on the floor of the Old State House. Right in front of the clothes of John Hancock." The ghoul chuckled and continued his tale. "John Hancock, first American hoodlum and defender of the people. I might've still been high, but those clothes spoke to me, told me what I needed to do. I smashed the case, put them on, and started a new life...as Hancock. After that, I went clean for a bit, got organized, convinced Kleo to loan me and my boys some hardware. My crew headed out into the ruins, started training, kinda like we are now. But the next time Vic's boys went on their tear, we'd be fuckin' ready for 'em. That night came, we all got loaded, let Vic's boys get good and hammered, and burst through the windows and rooftop where we'd been hiding. They never even saw that shit comin'. We didn't have to fire a single shot, but we sure did. It was a fuckin' massacre. Once we mopped up, we strolled right into Vic's quarters at the Old State House, wrapped a rope around his neck and I threw his ass from the balcony."

Betty swallowed a hard lump in her throat and said, "Jesus, it's brutal out here. Makes quiet times like this seem like a figment of our imaginations."

"Heh, like the space between dreaming and bein' awake. Christ knows I feel that way right now."

"What happened after?"

"There I was, gun in hand, draped in Hancock's duds, lookin' at all of the people of Goodneighbor assembled below. I had to say somethin'. That first time I said 'em, they didn't even feel like my words: _'Of the people, for the people!'_ was my inaugural address and I became mayor of Goodneighbor that day. From then on, I vowed I'd never stand by and watch. Ever again. This deal with Kellogg? It's my problem now, too, and I ain't gonna let you go down without puttin' up a good fight myself."

"You don't owe me anything, especially your life. If anything, I'm the one who owes you."

"Birdie, I'm pushin' damn near fifty by now, and lived enough for two lifetimes. If me kickin' the bucket means you get your boy, I'm cool with that. Honorable way to go. I don't want you to worry about me...focus on you and your kid. The second you wrap your arms around him, you fuckin' run. Run home and if I make it, I'll follow you there."

"All right if that's how you feel..." Betty began, "then you'll have to make me a promise. If I don't make it...take him somewhere safe. Maybe Daisy would look after him, like she did with Fahrenheit. He'd have a chance at this world with someone like you nearby. Though I'd prefer if he didn't get into chems.."

"How about I show him both sides of the coin and when he's a grown ass man, he can decide for himself. Fair enough?" Hancock answered.

"Does that mean you promise?"

"You have my word that if you fall, I'll see your son is raised safe and well. But you won't die today, Birdie. I won't let ya."

* * *

By sunup, Betty and Hancock felt strong enough to face Kellogg on his own turf. The only questioned that remained was Dogmeat, who whimpered and whined as Betty thought on whether or not to send him home.

"I don't mind keepin' him around," Hancock said as he scratched behind the dog's ears, "But if he's gonna worry or distract ya, he's better off home, where he'll be safe and you can make it back to him in one piece."

Betty knew her partner was right and bent down to kiss her dog's snout. "Hancock's right, boy. I know he can handle himself and so can you, but your whine if you get hurt is enough to take my head out of the game and lose. We don't want that, right?"

Dogmeat whined a few more times before he licked her face and she hugged him.

"Go home to Preston, Dogmeat. We'll be there soon with Shaun," she said, pointing in the direction of Sanctuary Hills. Dogmeat jumped up to lick at Betty's cheek before he nuzzled Hancock's hand and was off, running as the day broke. They watched him for a moment before they turned to face the looming Fort Hagen and they began the final half-mile to the base.

Several turrets greeted the pair and Betty shot back, her assault rifle doing enough damage to take all of the machines out of commission.

"Some makeshift stairs over here," Hancock called out. "Maybe we can get in through the roof."

Sure enough, there was an escape hatch built into the roof of the fort and both Betty and Hancock had to pull the heavy, lead doors open together. More than ever, she was glad to have a partner like the ghoul by her side. She never would've made it this far on her own.

Inside, Hancock dropped down first and took aim with his shotgun as he peered down the sights, checking for any sign of the mercenary. He let out a low whistle and said, "Birdie, you can come down-"

Betty fell out from the drop and landed right on top of Hancock, sending them both to the floor with a crash. He scrambled for his shotgun and sat up as he took aim again, but Betty's decidedly dramatic entrance didn't garner unwanted attention.

The ghoul looked down at his partner's head in his lap as she smiled up at him with reddened cheeks and whispered, "Sorry!"

"I could _really_ get used to this," he said with a raised brow and a smile.

"Save your version of sweet talk for later, Hancock," said Betty as she stood up. "Are you okay?"

A metallic voice called out, "Is someone present?" and the pair froze.

Hancock held a finger up to his lips and stood up. He motioned toward the magazine on Betty's rifle and gave her a thumbs up with questioning eyes. She nodded and he peered around the corner before he recoiled, letting out a low breath.

"Synths," he said, his voice barely audible. "Two of 'em."

Betty felt a panic creeping up her spine but she shook it away. Kellogg was here, which meant Shaun was too. There wasn't any time left for her to be frightened. Hancock nudged her with the butt of his shotgun and signaled for her to take the right side as he went around the corner. Her side of the fort was dark and not a speck of light streamed through the blacked out windows.

"Attacking enemy!" she heard a synth say, followed by the sound of Hancock's shotgun. "I am damaged. Kellogg will not be pleased."

"Damn right he won't be!" shouted the ghoul.

Betty rushed ahead, blasting away a machine gun turret and came face to face with the second synth. She felt glued to the broken tiles beneath her feet as it turned its head to examine her. It pointed its gun at her and pulled the trigger as Betty winced. But the fiery shot never appeared. The gun was jammed and the synth tossed it aside before it vaulted over a broken desk toward Betty. Snapping out of her fear, she took aim and fired a few shots before it attacked her. She and the synth struggled, its metal fingers threatening to crush Betty's wrists. She managed to free a hand and reached for the exposed wiring by the base of its neck before she pulled, shocking herself and destroying the synth.

"More of 'em!" Hancock shouted from a few rooms away.

Betty rushed towards the sound of his shotgun blasts and tackled a synth that had crept up behind the ghoul, its shock baton raised for a strike. She tore the baton from the synth's metal hand and jammed it into its neck, short-circuiting the wires there.

"Initiate Directive Sigma Omicron - Protect Kellogg," a synth announced before Hancock's slug blew its chest apart.

"God damn it!" Hancock shouted. "He'll be onto us in no time!"

Three more synths arrived and were shattered by Betty's rifle in mere seconds. In the sudden silence, she took Hancock's arm and pulled him as she searched through the rooms.

"The lower floors," she panted, "Nate told me they kept everything below ground. He has to be down there."

"Man, I ain't lived like this since...fuck, can't even remember," he said to himself with a grin. He glanced at Betty and added, "Can't wait to see the look on your face when you get your son back. That'll be the cherry on top of all this."

"Any grenades left?" she asked him.

"Three, and I think one's a fuckin' dud. I'm gonna fight Cricket for that shit."

"Cricket?" Betty asked.

"Yeah, this psychotic, little gal who sells weapons and ammo outta Bunker Hill. Makes me look like a normal, upstanding citizen."

"Can't wait to meet that nutjob, then."

They found a set of stairs that led further beneath Fort Hagen and reloaded their weapons before going down, a group of synths waiting for the pair.

Betty and Hancock unleashed hell right as the synths did the same. It was a blind flurry of shotgun shells, exploding bullets, and lasers as plaster was ripped from the walls.

"Say somethin', Birdie!" Hancock shouted over the noise from behind an overturned Nuka Cola machine as he loaded more shells.

"What?!" Betty shouted from around the corner, not hearing what he asked.

"Good enough!" he replied with a grin before he stood up and fired, destroying the last synth.

At the bottom of the stairwell were two doors but one led out to the Commonwealth and the other chained, with no amount of pulling, kicking, or punching able to free it.

"Fuck! What now?" she asked, out of breath.

"Gotta find another way. Thought I saw somethin' two flights back up." He frowned before he reached out and touched Betty's outer thigh, eliciting a hiss of pain that even she didn't expect. "You were shot here, twice. You didn't feel it?"

"Guess not," she replied, looking down at her wounds. Hancock pulled a stimpak from her pack and handed it to her before she stabbed the syringe into her thigh without hesitation.

"You got this. Follow me."

Betty followed behind Hancock and when they were two floors up, he broke open a set of blue double-doors with a slam of his shoulder. She was right behind him with cover fire as synths raced in, armed to the teeth. A lone synth guarded the next room filled with switchboards and dusty computers and it fell after Betty unloaded an entire clip into it.

"Hack into the terminal while I patch myself up for a sec?" he asked, winded.

"You were shot?" Betty asked. She walked toward him until Hancock held out his hand.

"Didn't I ask ya not to worry 'bout me in here? I'll live, you get on that terminal and do your thing."

Betty took a deep breath. Hancock was right. He was fine. She was fine, much better than fine if she were being honest. The adrenaline surged through her veins and with every password she tried, her hands shook with anticipation at the prospect of wrapping them around Kellogg's neck. She couldn't quit understand such a feeling at first, this...bloodlust, but that bastard deserved it. He murdered Nate and kidnapped Shaun before he left Betty to die in that vault. Fuck him. The world would be better off without scum like him tainting the Commonwealth.

The security door swung open and Hancock sorted through the contents of the lockers kept behind the gates. Some ammo, a few stimpaks. All helpful, all useful. Grenades and shotgun shells in a trunk. Unlocking the security door also brought power to an elevator beside it and Betty pushed the call button.

"How you holdin' up, softskin?" Hancock asked as the elevator brought them below the base.

"A little better than I thought I would. Maybe a bit...cruel. I never thought I'd ever say something like this but, I can't wait to murder that man," Betty said with a hard face, eyes wet with tears. "I want that son of a bitch to suffer. What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"That asshole destroyed your family. I'd think there was somethin' wrong if you didn't feel this way. In the end, you gotta go with how you feel at that moment and deal with the aftermath," said Hancock. "Make peace with it one day, if ever, but don't feel guilty about hurtin' this shithead."

The elevator opened to a cramped hallway with a door on the left chained shut. Hancock wrapped the chains around his arm a few times before he tore them off and kicked it open. It was the chained door from earlier and right across from it, the exit. A turret stood at the end of the hall, and Betty shot it before it even registered their presence. Another set of stairs and when they reached the bottom, a dark voice echoed all around to taunt Betty.

"If it isn't my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were busy cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler," said Kellogg's cold voice.

"Lemme cut out his tongue at least," Hancock snarled. "I've gotten real good at that shit."

Betty pressed forward. Hearing that man's voice again sparked new fury within her, especially that he had the gall to insult her along the way.

She opened another metal security and Kellogg's voice said, "Sorry your house has been a wreck for over two hundred years. But I don't need roommates. Oh yeah, I see you following her, ghoul...you're the junkie peacock mayor of that shithole, Goodneighbor. I heard about you. Was friends with Vic back in the day, you know. If you can convince the vault girl to leave right now, maybe I won't wipe Goodneighbor off the map."

Betty looked back at Hancock with worried eyes and her partner shouted at the top of his lungs, "FUCK YOU!"

He urged Betty ahead. Hancock wasn't worried about Goodneighbor. In fact, he felt pity for any who were foolish enough to attack the town. They had enough munitions to fund a small-time war effort.

The pair came upon the command center for Fort Hagen, skeletons still sitting at their posts, waiting for a command that came much too late.

Kellogg chuckled and said, "Never expected you to come knocking at my door. Gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky. Guess I have you to thank for that, eh Mayor?"

Hancock ripped his .44 magnum from his holster and took aim over Betty's shoulder as several synths ran down the hall towards them. His partner joined in and soon the floor surrounding them was peppered with bits of plastic and metal, along with four destroyed synths. A wall of bulletproof windows came up on their left, but with barely any light at all, they couldn't see a thing.

"Look," said Kellogg's voice. "You're pissed off. I get it. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It's not going to go your way. You've got guts and determination, and that's admirable, but you are in over your head in ways you can't possibly comprehend."

Hancock laughed and said to Betty, "Goes from insultin' us to reasonin' with us...I'd say he knows he's screwed."

"Maybe he's injured, like you said outside," she replied.

The pair went deeper into the command center. Ammo was plentiful and they had no shame in dumping box after box of their preferred calibers into their packs. Not only would Kellogg be dead and Betty reunited with her son, they'd be swimming in ammo for at least two months.

"It's not too late," Kellogg announced. "Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that...like your friend there. Even if he leaves with you now, he and his freaks at Goodneighbor are finished. He has you to thank for that."

"Don't listen to him," whispered Hancock. "Nothin' will happen, Fahrenheit won't let it."

Finally after killing a few more synths and destroying a handful of turrets, Betty and Hancock came to a large, circular room that must belong to Kellogg. There was no sign of Shaun, much to Betty's dismay. She searched through a few boxes and the desk for any sign of her son, maybe a toy or clothes, something. Maybe Kellogg moved Shaun to a different room the pair hadn't came upon yet.

Kellogg echoed above the pair one last time as he announced in a weary voice, "Okay. You made it. I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk."

The metal door in the room swung open and the pair followed the short hall. There, at the end, was one last door and through its tiny glass window, Betty could see Kellogg's scarred face.

"Don't follow me in yet," she said to Hancock. "This is between me and that sadistic asshole."

"You got it, Birdie. I won't come in if the fight's still fair." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close before he added, "Remember: Don't rush in there, guns hot. Check around while he spits his bullshit at ya, see where you can really hurt him and when that time comes, don't hesitate. You fuckin' kill him because we both know he ain't lettin' either of us walk outta here."

The Sole Survivor was ready to meet her greatest and only enemy. She had enemy attorneys that she fought with words in court but this...this was much more satisfying.

She hugged her partner tight and as her fingers slipped from his hand, he said, "Wait!"

Betty turned, worried that maybe she was walking into Hell with the safety on her rifle on. Instead, Hancock grinned and pulled her into his arms before he dipped her over his knee and kissed her, hot and heavy. There was the tiniest chance that neither of them would make it out of Fort Hagen, and Hancock wanted to be sure he had one final shot at kissing the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

"For luck, ya know?" said Hancock as he helped his partner stand upright. "More on my end, you don't need any."

Betty smiled and hugged her partner again before she turned to open the final door and face her sworn enemy and plague to the Commonwealth. As she walked into the large room, the lights flickered on overhead and all Hancock could do was stand in the shadows of the dark hall and watch his girl walk straight into the belly of the beast.

Kellogg stood at the room's center, arms above his head as he wore a savage grin, surrounded by a handful of synths. "There she is. The most resilient human being in the Commonwealth. Funny...I thought I had that honor."

"Not if I can help it, you fuckin' prick," Hancock growled under his breath. The gears in his mind spun with such haste that he thought for a moment he'd snap. He emptied the chamber of his .44 revolver into his pack with jittery hands and reached into his pocket for Kellogg's rounds before he slipped each one into the pistol. He peeked around the corner and watched a synth circle around Betty, hunting her.

As Betty came to a stop within inches of him, Kellogg asked, "Where's your friend? He doesn't have the balls to face me like you do?"

"You're lucky I want to deal with you myself. Where is he? Where the fuck is my son?!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the metal walls around them.

"Right to it then, huh? Okay. Fine. Your son, Shaun. Great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I'm guessing you figured it out by now. But if you're hoping for a happy reunion? Ain't gonna happen. Your son's not here."

"God damn you, you mercenary motherfucker. Where. Is. My. Son?!" she bellowed.

"What's the cliche? 'So close but yet, so far away?' That's Shaun. But don't worry. You'll die knowing he's safe and happy in a loving home. The Institute," Kellogg explained with a sneer.

She scoffed. "Here. The Institute. I'll find Shaun, no matter where he is. _Nothing_ will stop me."

"God, you're persistent. I give you credit, it's the way a parent should act. The way I'd be acting if I were in your place, I like to think. Even if it is useless." Kellogg was silent for some time before he said, "But I think we've been talking long enough. We all know how this has to end. So...you ready?"

"In a hundred years, when I die, I hope I go to Hell just so I can kill you all over again," Betty said with a snarl.

"I love it when they go down fighting," Kellogg replied as he reached for his pistol.

With no reluctance or second thoughts on her part, Betty lifted her assault rifle and slammed the butt into Kellogg's chin with all her might. The mercenary, caught off guard, staggered backward into a set of terminals and rolled away as Betty drove her bayonet into the machines instead of Kellogg's throat.

The synth who'd been creeping up behind Betty lifted its gun and aimed for the back of her head. Hancock rushed into the room and leapt at the synth's back. He rammed his fingers into its eye sockets and pulled out his combat knife before cutting its head off. The ghoul and the machine fell to the tiled floor and Hancock glanced up and saw Betty struggling against Kellogg as the other synths shot at her.

Laser shots burned through Betty's clothes, searing her skin beneath but she didn't feel any of it. All she could think of was curling her fingers around Kellogg's neck until his face turned all shades of purple. Kellogg slammed his head into Betty's, forcing her back, and he grinned at her as blood spilled from between his lips before he disappeared.

"What the-" Betty whispered. A force ripped the gun from her hands before it lifted her off the tiled floor and threw her against another set of terminals, her vision going black for a few seconds.

"There's a reason I'm known as the most resilient man of the Commonwealth," said Kellogg's disembodied voice. "I should've shot you in the head back then. Won't make that mistake twice."

Hancock threw a synth over his shoulder as the last one attacked, clawing at his coat with its ruined arms. He ducked and pulled his arms free before he saw his partner being held down by...well, there was no one there, but the ghoul knew better.

"He's using stealth!" Hancock shouted. "Follow his voice!"

Betty kicked out with all her strength and heard Kellogg yell in agony. She threw herself at the empty space where her boot connected with Kellogg's groin and they fell over a desk and onto the floor.

The synth tossed Hancock's coat aside and screeched at him before going in for the kill. His laugh was dark before he said, "Let's dance, bitch."

Kellogg's stealth field flashed several times as he wrestled with Betty. His strength began to overpower her and it was his hands wrapped around her throat instead. "Why didn't you take my offer?" he grunted. "Why do you have to be so damn unshakable?"

"You ruined my life," Betty croaked as her fingers tried to pry through his grip, "I won't let you ruin anyone else's."

Hancock ran to match speed with the synth before he dropped and skidded between its legs, turning to fire his last two shells into its back. He pulled out his .44 magnum filled with Kellogg's bullets before he slid it to Betty and shouted, "It has his bullets!"

Betty slammed her elbow into Kellogg's bloodied face several times before her neck was free. She snatched Hancock's gun from behind Kellogg's head and pressed the end of the barrel against his right temple, where he'd shot Nate. The mercenary couldn't help but smile at the Sole Survivor's tenacity and closed his swollen eyes as Betty squeezed the trigger until the chamber was empty and only half of the man's skull remained.

Hancock stood up on unsteady legs and limped over to Betty, the deep cuts across his chest and arms dripping blood with a steady rhythm. Betty remained straddled over Kellogg's body, her breathing heavy and ragged. She rested her head against the ghoul's hip and he cupped her cheek.

"I'm...I'm sorry Shaun isn't here," said Hancock. "At least you're both safe from this piece of shit. Are you hurt bad?"

Betty shrugged her shoulders and he knelt down beside her with a pained groan and reached out to take her chin in his hand. One of her eyes was already a deep shade of blue-purple and her nose might be broken, he wasn't sure. Split lip. Gash across her right temple. Laser burn across her neck. He didn't even want to think about what she looked like beneath her scorched leathers.

"Adrenaline's gonna wear off in a few and you're gonna be hurtin' bad. I know you ain't about it, but please, consider some Med-X. At least until I get you home."

"Okay.." Betty answered in a small voice.

As Hancock went to grab their packs from the hall, Betty stared at the gory mess that was Kellogg's head. He deserved it. She didn't feel awful at all. In fact, at that moment, she felt nothing. A piece of metal jutted from the broken skull and she pulled it free, holding it up to the light. Her partner returned, holding their packs and several Med-X's in his hands and he said, "A souvenir. Nice. Here, gimme your arm, Birdie, and I'll give you enough to make it home."

Hancock tied off her arm above the elbow with his belt and searched for a large enough vein so he wouldn't miss on the first try. He didn't want this to be more unpleasant than it was already. Finding one, he slid the needle beneath her skin and pushed down on the plunger before pulling the needle free. He tossed the spent Med-X aside and rubbed his palm over the injection site several times to lessen the burn of the drug as it seeped into her bloodstream.

"It's nice," she whispered. "I don't feel much of anything now."

Hancock frowned and he injected himself with both stimpaks and Med-X until there wasn't a trace of pain or weakness left in him. Betty stood up, her eyes still on Kellogg before she stuffed the metal object from his skull into a pocket on her knapsack.

She took off her burned and tattered leathers with haste and her partner asked, "What are you doin'?"

"I want the Institute to see what I did to their 'great' mercenary when they look at me," she said as she pulled her shirt over her head, not caring that Hancock would see a fair amount of her bare flesh. She kicked off her boots and pulled off her pants before she did the same to Kellogg.

As much as Hancock longed to see more of Betty's pale skin, he knew this was no time for smooth talk or wandering eyes. Instead, he searched through the desks scattered about the room, looking for a clue or some sort of hint that pointed out where Shaun was kept hidden. Not one for computers or anything of the sort, he tapped a key on Kellogg's terminal and the screen lit up. He couldn't help but chuckle and he looked through the few files that were available and saw that Shaun was given to the Institute not long ago.

"What do you think?" Betty asked as she picked up her assault rifle from the floor.

He turned around and nodded his head, appreciating her idea of revenge. "They're gonna shit themselves when you show up at their door wearing their best man's clothes. Even the scar, holy shit. If I didn't know you, I wouldn't fuck with ya lookin' like that."

"No, they're going to shit themselves seeing _us_ at their door. Here," she said as she handed Hancock Kellogg's .44 magnum. "I imagine this might be better than the one you have?"

"Hell yes, thanks, Birdie. I'll follow ya into Hell if I gotta. You sure know how to show a ghoul a good time."

"Thank _you_ ," she murmured into his chest as she hugged him.

It was bittersweet, to leave Fort Hagen without her boy, but Betty knew she would find him soon. Now, it was she who left no enemies alive but unlike Kellogg, she'd use her newfound skills to rid the world of dark hearts like the mercenary. With a partner like Hancock, who's heart was as big as his ego and the finesse to back it all up, Betty couldn't fall.


	12. Burying the Past

**Holy crap guys, thank you SO MUCH for all of your reviews, favorites, and follows. I was also surprised to discover that there weren't as many F!SS/Hancock fics as I'd thought there'd be, so I didn't think this story would gain any traction. So glad to know you guys are enjoying it and thanks again for giving me a shot.**

* * *

The elevator just outside the carnage filled room sent Betty and Hancock back to the roof of Fort Hagen and civilization as defined by the brutality of the Commonwealth. Betty didn't have any fight left in her after killing Kellogg. Not a drop of sympathy was felt by her or Hancock, and yet she felt empty and broken knowing Shaun was still out there, a boy of ten with no mother to care for him. At the very least, Sanctuary Hills was not far by any means, and she decided before the pair stepped outside that she would return home to rest and gather her thoughts. Detective Valentine seemed the type who would understand, and Hancock was just happy to be out in the fresh air with her on his arm.

The elevator doors opened and she powered on a terminal to disengage the lock on the security door leading outside. Night had come swiftly, the stars out in full force.

"Where we off to next, softskin? Back to Nicky's and let him know what happened?" asked Hancock.

He'd never mention it to her, but Hancock worried about his partner more than he let on. Over the past few days, his feelings toward her had changed. No longer did the ghoul feel nothing but lust and longing at the prospect of a new bedmate, and a stunning one at that. Now, the drive to keep her safe with a smile on her face was all he knew at times. He hadn't felt so close to someone in decades, and although at times it unnerved him, all he wanted was to stay at her side. Just the thought of being without her made him feel ill. It was a feeling he couldn't shake.

"I want to go home," Betty replied in a quiet voice.

"You got it. Lemme spark up real quick before we head out. Been dyin' for one."

The ghoul sifted through the various pockets in his coat until he found the pack of smokes, lit one up, and looked up into the night sky before the cigarette fell from between his lips.

"Ho-ly shit," he whispered.

Betty was distracted while she stuffed the extra bit of fabric of Kellogg's pants deeper into her boot. Hancock's cigarette fell beside her and she picked it up before she asked, "What?"

The ghoul pointed into the sky and Betty fell against him with a gasp as a colossal airship floated towards the Commonwealth with several vertibirds as its escorts. Neither of them had ever seen anything on such a titanic scale, and she clung to his arm as new fear slithered up her spine.

"People of the Commonwealth! Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are...the Brotherhood of Steel," said a voice booming across the land from within the airship.

"Brotherhood knows how to make an entrance. I'll give 'em that. But flying that ship into the Commonwealth? That's a declaration of war if I ever saw one," Hancock said with narrowed eyes. "This...it ain't good, Birdie."

"Who are they?"

"You, uh...should probably ask MacCready about the Brotherhood. He ain't gonna be happy to see them again. What I do know about them is they ain't fond of ghouls. It's gonna get personal with those fucks." Hancock explained. "But I'll deal with it when the time comes. Let's get you home."

An hour or so passed as they walked through the forest of dead and dying trees. Betty hardly spoke, except to point out the occasional bloatfly zipping about before it came too close. She even managed to knock one right out of the air using her rifle as a bat.

"So, seems you know how to hold your own, now," said Hancock, breaking their bout of silence. "I had my doubts when we first hit the road."

"Oh yeah? What kind of doubts?" Betty asked with a hint of annoyance.

Hancock laughed and said, "You kiddin' me, Birdie? You looked like you'd fallen out of the vault that day. I thought I'd be helpin' ya pick up your teeth from the gutter by sun up."

"...That would've been the case if you didn't follow after my dumb ass."

"It's just real rare these days to find someone who's not just willing to take thing the way they're handed to 'em. Too many good folks not willin' to get their hands dirty, and too many assholes taking advantage of it. Look at what happened to Diamond City. Before McDonough took over, it was a half-decent place to live. A little stricter than what I usually go for, but not terrible. I thought he and I had a pretty happy childhood."

"You and McDonough knew each other as kids?" asked Betty with surprise.

"Uh, yeah...he's...my brother."

"What?!" she shouted. "He's your actual brother? By blood?"

Hancock nodded and said, "Patrick Jr. was the standard big brother. Entitled. Punchy. Liked to shove rotten tatos down my shirt and slap my back."

"What a fucking dick. I'm going to sock him next time he and I cross paths."

"Right?! Still can't stand the sight of tatos. But I never thought he'd be capable of something like what he did to those ghouls. He decided he's gonna try and get elected with his anti-ghoul crusade -"Mankind for McDonough." What a load of fuckin' garbage. Before you know it, you got families with kids lining up to drag folks they called 'neighbor' out of their homes and throw 'em to the ruins."

"How could they get away with that?" Betty asked. "If those ghouls bought those homes fair and square-"

"-There's always been issues between folks livin' in the stands and the folks down on the field. Pat ran on it because he thought enough of the Upper Stand assholes would vote for him. Guess he was right. I stormed into his office after the inauguration speech...he was just standin' there. Starin' out the window, watchin' as the city turned on the ghouls. He didn't even fuckin' look at me, just said, 'I did it, John. It's finally mine.' Should've killed him right there and then, but it wouldn't have changed anything. Instead, I pleaded with him, like a bitch. Begged on hands and knees for him to call it off. Pat said he couldn't. That he had nothin' against the ghouls, but was just carrying out the will of the people, and he couldn't betray the voters. Then he smiled, this fuckin' hideous mile-long smile. He never smiled like that when we were kids. I didn't even recognize him. You know about those rumors, the ones about him being a synth? Thinkin' back on that night, I thought it made a lot of sense. But now, I dunno. I've seen him since and there's no way they got him down so perfectly...even his tightass walk."

"I guess you left soon after that, huh?"

"At the time, I just needed to get the hell away, from him and that whole damned city. I still wasn't a ghoul at this point, so I didn't have to leave, but I couldn't bring myself to stay in that cesspool. I knew all the safe routes to Goodneighbor at the time so I tried to help out a few of the families, lead 'em there, bring 'em food. They couldn't handle that sorta lifestyle. They just...disappeared after a few weeks. Those folks in Diamond City signed their death warrants. I felt like I was the only one who saw how fucked up things were, who couldn't just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way...or I did. Until I met you," said Hancock. "I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it...it's meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend. It's why I fight so hard for ya."

"I hope you know I'll always fight for you, too," said Betty. "It's not easy for me to feel close to someone...but you make it a breeze. I'm the lucky one."

Hancock's arm draped across her shoulder with ease and said, "We both are. Funny how the world works sometimes."

* * *

Betty and Hancock arrived at the lop-sided bridge, just outside of Sanctuary Hills. The settlement had grown in Betty's absence, swelling from the original five settlers she met in Concord to almost fifteen. She wanted to be happy, more than anything, but there was nothing to feel.

"Somethin' smells good," said Hancock.

"You can still smell things?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, probably better than you can."

Betty checked her Pip-boy and said, "We got here in time for supper. Codsworth is a decent enough chef."

A chilling howl came from within town and moments later, Dogmeat was tearing down the street to greet Betty and Hancock, Preston hot on the hound's heels.

"Betty!" shouted Preston as he waved his hat.

She lifted her hand with a half-hearted wave, exhausted from yesterday's run across the Commonwealth and the hell raging through her mind. Sleeping in her own bed was all she could think of. Dogmeat nearly crashed into the pair, licking them both. Betty bent down to kiss her dog and Hancock took a moment to give him a good scratch behind the ears.

The Minuteman hugged Betty and winced as he looked at her face. "What happened to you? Where's your son?"

"The Institute has him and we're figuring out a way in. I'm only alive because of my partner here," said Betty, nodding towards Hancock.

The ghoul stuck out his hand first and said to Preston with his best, charming smile, "Mayor John Hancock, of Goodneighbor, and Betty's just bein' modest. She kicked ass and took names."

Preston shook the ghoul's hand and said, "Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minuteman...Goodneighbor, huh? Rough place, I've heard."

"Ain't for everyone, but it's home for those without."

Preston nodded his head and said, "Codsworth is serving dinner if you two haven't eaten yet. Betty, I know you just got here, but we're having an important meeting for the Minutemen after supper."

"She's beat, friend. Can't it wait until tomorrow?" Hancock asked.

Preston frowned and replied, "We've already put this off long enough, unfortunately."

"It's all right, Hancock. I'll be fine after I get some food in me," she assured her partner.

Hancock nodded and said, "That's all I needed to hear. Let's eat."

Preston lead them to the common house at the center of Sanctuary Hills, several long tables set up behind the home. Settlers, new and old, took up nearly every seat as Codsworth served the meal. Even he seemed a bit more cheery than usual and Betty was glad to find the settlement and its residents flourishing. They cheered at the sight of Betty, happy to see her safe return. Hancock walked around the tables, introducing himself and being, well, a damn good politician. Within minutes, he had several of the settlers in hysterics with a tale of his.

"Miss Elizabeth, I've instructed Sturges to set up a table for you and Mayor Hancock," announced Codsworth. He lowered his thrusters and whispered, "Did you find the poor lad?"

"I know who has Shaun and I'll be going after him as soon as Hancock and I find out where he is."

"Good show. Ah! There's the table now! Come, come, Miss Elizabeth. I made sure to save a fair helping of the macaroni and cheese the moment I heard you were coming across the bridge," explained the Mr. Handy.

Betty took her seat and moments later, Hancock slid into the chair beside her as Codsworth brought over two plates, piled high with food. Although the ghoul was starved, he waited in silence until Betty had at least several mouthfuls before he dug into his own plate.

"You don't have to wait for me, you know," she said.

"My Ma taught me to wait. Can't help it."

"Is she still around?" Betty asked. "I'd like to meet the woman who managed to teach you some semblance of manners."

Hancock shook his head and said, "Can't. Been gone a long time now, the both of 'em. She would've loved ya, though. I imagine she'd say somethin' along the lines of, 'About damn time you bring a woman home and not some fool girl' and Pop would be sitting there, nodding. He'd probably check out your ass; he's where I get it from. Heh, I miss 'em sometimes. They're nice to think about."

"They sounded great. Sorry to hear they're gone."

"Don't be. It's life and they lived a long enough time."

After dinner, Codsworth cleared the tables and said to the ghoul, "Mayor, the Minutemen are about to begin their meeting. Is there anything I can bring you while you wait for Miss Elizabeth?"

"Point me in the direction of that psyker you got hangin' around and I'll be outta everyone's hair," he answered.

"Psyker? I apologize, Sir, but I'm not familiar with such a term."

"He means Mama Murphy," said Betty as she stood up. She helped Preston and some of the other Minutemen move the largest table back to its rightful place beside the weapon bench.

"Ah! Jolly good! Right this way, Mayor," said Codsworth, his tone light and cheerful.

Hancock followed the robot back into the house and noticed a frail, old woman sitting in a chair with her eyes closed, a smile on her face. Another woman sat beside her, mending a tattered jacket. He sat on the couch beside them and Mama Murphy opened her eyes before she turned to face him.

* * *

"Betty, would you take the head of the table today?" Preston asked her. She took the seat and watched quietly as the table filled up with settlers before Preston took Betty's usual seat on her right.

"All right," he began and the chatter died down. "Let's welcome Betty back from her trip. How was downtown?"

"Insane," was all Betty had to say after the round of applause she received, grateful that he didn't press about Shaun, and the Minuteman nodded.

"We think we're ready to retake the old Minutemen base, the Castle," Preston explained to her. "We have the manpower to make it possible now and with your newfound skills and partner, we shouldn't have any trouble. You think he'd be up to help us?"

"Sounds good. I'm sure Mayor Hancock would lend his hand," she said.

"Bet he would, the way he follows you around," chuckled Sturges. "He's fuckin' whipped."

"That's enough," said Betty, clear and sharp. "That man saved my life. I think he's earned a bit more respect than that."

Sturges shrunk down into his seat and mumbled, "Meant no harm, ma'am."

"Damn right." She glanced at Preston and nodded. "Go ahead."

Betty looked up and saw Hancock sitting beside Mama Murphy and she chuckled when he took her hand in his. That charming bastard-

"-And on that note, the reason we wanted you to be here is because...well, we want you to be the General. None of us would be here if it weren't for you," said Preston.

Betty looked around before she realized he was speaking to her and she said, "Me? The General? Why not you, Preston? You're the last Minuteman, shouldn't you get the title?"

He laughed and said, "I'm better suited in Sanctuary, you're the true wanderer here. I'll only take the position if you refuse it but as the last Minuteman, I think I have the say to give it to you. No one's argued with me, yet...in fact, we passed a vote and it was unanimous: We want you as General."

Betty looked around at all the smiling faces and not wanting to disappoint them, said, "I'm...I'm honored. Really."

"Are you saying yes...General Parker?"

Betty nodded and said, "Yeah, I guess I am...Yes. In a few days, we travel to the Castle and take it back."

The table cheered, fists pounding on the wood and she grinned for the first time since leaving Fort Hagen without her son. At least he'd be proud to know to know who his mother is.

Outside, Betty's table erupted with cheers and the ghoul looked up to see her smiling face. Christ, she was beautiful when she smiled. Whatever news they gave her must've been good.

"I've been wantin' to meet ya ever since what happened to us at Diamond City," Hancock said to Mama Murphy. "Betty told me you saw we wouldn't get in right away."

"That was _you_ with her?" asked Mama Murphy. She turned to the younger woman and said, "I told ya, Marcy...the Sight works."

The woman named Marcy rolled her eyes and continued with her sewing.

Mama Murphy turned back to Hancock and explained, "You see, the Sight showed me that Betty would meet two men on her journey. One would help her find her son and the one denied passage into the city would love her and keep her from death's door."

"Love her?" he asked. He turned and looked at Betty, who was talking to Preston and the other Minutemen about retaking their stronghold. She sat at the head of the table, and when she looked up, her gaze found his and they smiled at one another. It was enough to twist a knot into his already full stomach. " _That's_ what this is, huh? Sounds about right."

Mama Murphy chuckled and said, "Betty swore to me that she'd never love again, right before she left Sanctuary. I knew you'd prove her wrong."

"I hate to throw a wrench into your plans, but you know there ain't nothin' between us, right? I mean, I kissed her twice but I don't wanna count those in my favor, much as I'd like to."

"Why not?" Marcy asked, interested in his answer.

"One time was to make some dick in Diamond City feel stupid for bein' a ghoul-hatin' bigot and the other was before she faced the asshole who killed her husband and stole her boy," he replied. "Fightin' makes folks do weird shit, ya know? Emotions go wild, you're not sure if you're gonna make it to sunrise, all that makes ya wanna go out with a bang, you feel me? 'Sides...the hell would Betty want with me? She's good and I'm...well, it ain't good, whatever I am."

Mama Murphy shook her head and said, "The Sight's never been wrong. You were meant for her, and she for you."

"She was meant to be with her husband," he said with a frown."

That was a different time...and a different life."

Hancock sat with quiet thoughts before he reached into his pocket and held out a Med-X syringe. "I wanna know what else you can see. No matter how hard it'll be to hear."

Mama Murphy took the chem from his palm with a soft smile before she injected herself with it. "Ahh, that's it. There's nothing like that warm fire flooding your veins."

"Ain't that the truth," Hancock replied. "What do you see for me, psyker?"

"You've been keeping something from her," said Mama Murphy and Hancock froze at her words. She smiled and pat his hand before she said, "Share your burden with her, John, as she shared hers with you. And...I hear...music, a crowd filled with admiration for you and the one you love. It'll be one of the best days in all your years, which are long and border on eternity. But...there's walls of blinding white hidden beneath shades of brown and gray and within, lays the answer. This place, it isn't right..and you see that before it drowns with fire. A new Commonwealth, stronger than before. And out of the ruins, a youth with no place on this earth."

"Shit...that's heavy stuff," said the ghoul. "Thank you."

Betty stepped into the room with a yawn as she rubbed her tired eyes. Mama Murphy smiled as she watched Hancock light up at the sight of his partner, the grin on his scarred face wide and genuine.

"Ready to hit the hay, Birdie?" he asked.

"Too ready. My house is across the street," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. She glanced down at Mama Murphy and Marcy and bid them both good night as Hancock followed her outside.

Betty shivered in the cool, night air and the ghoul pulled off his coat before he draped it across her shoulders. When she looked at him right then, Hancock felt an unfamiliar burn seep into his face, something he hadn't felt since he was a young man. With a chuckle, he shook his head, grateful that a ghoul couldn't blush.

"What was the meetin' about? New settlements?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. They made me General of the Minutemen, no big thing," Betty replied with a shrug. She couldn't hide her smile from Hancock, though, especially when he lifted her off her feet with a hug.

"Holy shit, congrats! Fuckin' General of the Minutemen! Bet ya didn't expect that when you set foot outta that vault," he said.

"There's a lot of shit going on I didn't expect," she said. "Most of it better than I thought it'd turn out, thank god. What'd you talk to Mama Murphy about?"

"Asked if she'd use the Sight for me. She did."

"What did she see?"

"Us. Music. Shit blowin' up."

"Sounds right."

Betty twisted the knob on her front door and walked inside her old home, dimly lit by a lone lightbulb she managed to get working before she left Sanctuary for Downtown.

"Nice digs," said Hancock as he looked around, opening cabinets and peering inside. "House held up pretty good!"

"Codsworth would love to hear that. He did his best," said Betty. "Where did you want to camp out?"

"Wherever's fine, you know I ain't picky."

He lay his shotgun, captain's hat and pack down on the coffee table and sat on the couch with a sigh before he kicked off his boots. Betty bent down and kissed the top of his head before she squeezed his shoulder, and when he turned, Betty was already walking down the short hall to her bedroom.

* * *

Hancock woke from his deep slumber, shouting Betty's name as he reached for his shotgun before he remembered where he lay. He sat up and his eyes fell to the coffee table where his things sat. The flap on his knapsack was undone. The ghoul looked about yet nothing seemed amiss. He shrugged his shoulders and stood up, stretching his arms above his head before he shuffled down the hall to check on Betty. He peeked into her bedroom and the bed was unmade, but empty. No sign of his partner at all. He checked the other room as well, but she was gone.

"Where the fuck would she go this late?"

He checked outside the side door and Dogmeat perked his head up from his red doghouse, but still no sign of Betty.

"Hey, Dogmeat," Hancock whispered. The German Shepherd stood up and stretched before trotting over to the ghoul with his tongue hanging out. "Where's Betty? Where's our softskin at?"

Dogmeat pushed past the ghoul and walked into the house, sniffing about. The hound whined several times and pawed at the front door.

"All right," said Hancock as he opened the front door instead. "She went out through here. Now where?"

The dog barked once and dashed out the door, heading south.

"Jesus, not this shit again-hey, wait for me, damn it!" said Hancock in a loud whisper as he grabbed his shotgun and took off after Dogmeat.

The German Shepherd led him down the street and then up a path towards the hillside. The ghoul checked the river as he crossed a small, rickety bridge and followed the dog up the sloping hill until he was at the entrance of Vault 111.

"She's in there?" Hancock asked. Dogmeat barked twice and the ghoul asked, "Well, how the hell am I supposed to get in?"

Dogmeat tugged on the sleeve of Hancock's coat and pulled him toward a small, rusted metal shelter that contained a switch for the elevator, which he flipped. The ghoul shook his head and said to Dogmeat, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a synth. Never met a dog so damn clever before. Stay here and guard this switch. Just wanna make sure she's all right."

Hancock dropped down into the elevator shaft just before it sealed itself off from the outside world. When the doors opened at the bottom, he took an uneasy step forward, knowing he was setting foot in the prison where Kellogg and the Institute held Betty. He checked every room he came across until he heard what sounded like a sob. It was enough to send him running toward the noise, praying Betty was safe.

At the end of the longest hallway in the vault, a doorway stood open, the only one that Hancock noticed. Betty had to be in there. The ghoul loaded his shotgun and lifted it to his shoulder before he stepped through the door, afraid of what he'd find.

Betty sat on the floor, sobbing quietly to herself as she stared at a large pod across from her. Around her lay several Med-X syringes. Hancock counted six of them in total and swallowed hard. No wonder she looked like shit.

He was about to call out her name when Betty choked out, "I'm s-sorry, Nate. I'm sorry that you're gone...that I haven't found Shaun...that I'm a horrible mother...a horrible wife."

Hancock would've turned on his heel and left Betty alone with such private thoughts, thoughts she certainly never mentioned to him, but the amount of Med-X she took was enough to kill if he didn't act fast.

"...Birdie?" Hancock called out in a low looked up in Hancock's direction with wet eyes and sniffled as the ghoul appeared beside her, using his sleeve to wipe her face clean before he held her chin in his hand to check her pupils. They were pin-pricks of black.

"I did t-too many, I t-think.." Betty said, looking down at the pile of used chems. "Don't...feel so great."

"S'alright, Birdie, let's get you...holy shit," he whispered, looking up at the pod she sat across from. Her late husband's cryogenic pod. "Christ, I'm so sorry."

"He was good," Betty sobbed. "Too good for the likes of me."

"You kiddin' me? Good deserves good. Handsome guy too, god damn. We'll find those Institute bastards, put two in their brains, and get your son back."

In the past, Hancock would never have been able to face a tearful Betty, or anyone else. Crying always made him uncomfortable, reminding him of his own dark nights so long ago. He couldn't remember the last time he shed a tear but seeing her in such a state made the hardened ghoul choke up for a moment.

Betty curled into Hancock's chest and cried harder than she ever had. She didn't have a plan in mind when she set foot in the vault except to bid Nate goodbye, but seeing his lifeless body again was just too much for her. That's where the Med-X came in.

"I can't do this! I can't just leave him in here but...I'm not strong like he was-"

"-Betty, I ain't never met a dame stronger than you. You can do it all and whatever you need, I got your back. Come on, let's get ya to bed and off these chems. Nate wouldn't want to see ya like this, right?"

She nodded and replied, "Y-you're right. I'm sorry."

"You never have to be sorry for this. C'mon love, I can carry ya out."

Hancock strapped his shotgun to his back before he scooped Betty up from the floor. Her eyes couldn't hold their focus on anything around her except him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck in a panic. The ghoul held his partner closer and quickened his pace towards the elevator. There wasn't much time left to get the chems out of her system before too much damage was done.

At the surface, Dogmeat waited as the elevator came to a halt. Hancock checked their surroundings for danger and nodded for Dogmeat to follow close behind. By the time they crossed the tiny bridge, Hancock was sitting beside Betty as she puked her lungs out into the water below.

"Don't..." Betty managed to say between heaves, "look...at me."

"You know how many times I've chucked in front of a dame? It's nothin'. Better out than in, I always say."

A few heaves later, Betty was back in Hancock's arms and then her bed. Her cheeks were ghostly white and the ghoul realized then that her throwing up was not enough to get the chems out of her system. She needed medicine now..and he knew just where to find it.

"Birdie," Hancock whispered as he turned her head to the side. "I'll be right back. Two minutes, tops."

Dogmeat bounded to his feet when Hancock let out a short whistle and the ghoul said, "Take me to Garvey. Hurry."

The German Shepherd led Hancock to the first house after the lop-sided bridge that led into Sanctuary Hills and sat in front of the door with a soft whine.

Hancock looked at Dogmeat and asked, "You sure this is Garvey's house?"

Dogmeat barked twice.

"You must be Spanish or some shit because you keep talkin' backwards. One bark, yes. Two is no. Now, is this Garvey's house?"

Dogmeat gave the ghoul a single, long howl.

Hancock knocked loudly on the door and said, "I'm supposed to be the dramatic one here, you know. Go check on Betty, make sure her head's still turned to the side, would ya?"

Dogmeat let out a short bark before turning on his heel and running full speed down the street.

A yawning Preston opened the door and a scowl appeared on his face. "Can I help you? It's one in the morning, Mayor."

"Got any Calmex and Addictol? I know ya got some lying around in case that psyker of yours starts havin' too much of a good time," said Hancock.

Preston glared at him before he replied, "Too strung out to keep up? I know your type. Goodneighbor's a junkie town, their mayor being the biggest one of all."

"Ain't here to defend my title, Garvey. It's Betty who ain't feelin' so hot."

"The General wasn't like this before you came along."

"You're right. She was numb before...least now she feels somethin' and can move on."

"With you? I've seen how you look at her."

"Me, you, no one, every one, it don't matter. Long as she's happy, so am I. You got what I need or not?"

Preston stood silent, his face tight until he loosened his shoulders with a sigh and said, "Give me a minute and I'll get them for you."

A few moments passed and the Minuteman returned to the door with two syringes."Here you go. Do you need a hand?" asked Preston.

"My partner, my problem," Hancock said over his shoulder as he walked away.

"My General!" shouted the Minuteman.

The ghoul stopped in his tracks and without turning around, said, "Ever since she crossed that threshold of my town and I shivved the cocksucker tryin' to extort her, Betty's been mine to look after. I needed the meds, you forked them over. You did your part, Garvey. Let me do mine."

Hancock returned to Betty's side just as she began to thrash beneath her sheets. He pinned her arm to the mattress before he injected the Calmex as Dogmeat whined mournfully at the foot of the bed.

"She'll be fine, boy. Body's in a bit of shock."

Eyes still closed, Betty stretched out with a groan and settled into a soft whimper.

Hancock smoothed down the hair on her head and whispered, "There, there. It'll be over soon. Won't remember a damn thing in the mornin', love."

"Hancock?" Betty mumbled.

He took her hand in his and said, "I'm here."

"Don't leave..don't leave me," she whispered. "Please-"

"-Wouldn't dream of it."

Hancock sat beside Betty until she drifted into a calmer sleep, chain-smoking to keep himself awake. Four hours of sleep in the past forty-eight hours was just not enough, even for a ghoul.

When he was sure Betty would pull through without any ill effects, the ghoul took to his feet and shuffled toward the doorway. Dogmeat perked up and whined.

"I'll be right back...gotta do somethin' back at the vault. You go get Preston right away if Betty feels sick and I'm not back yet," Hancock said.

Once the ghoul was back inside Vault 111, he returned to Nate's cryo pod and removed his captain's hat before he cleared his throat and said, "The name's John. I'm here to bring you home."

He slammed his fist into the pod controls and the pod opened with a hiss and a flash of stale, frozen air. Nate was still perfectly preserved, with the exception of the horrific gunshot wound to his temple. Hancock expected to feel a bit of envy when he looked upon Nate's handsome face, but all he felt was sorrow and pity. Though the body was stiff, there was enough give that the ghoul was able to carry Nate across his shoulders, albeit with great effort.

"Fuckin' hell, I should've taken some Buffout," muttered Hancock. "Should've known you'd be a tank, Parker. Military boys always are."

It took almost an entire hour for the ghoul to return to Sanctuary Hills, as he wanted to be sure nothing would happen to Nate's body along the way. He trudged into the yard, out of breath, before he laid Nate on the ground with care. He jogged across the street to the common house, took a shovel and returned to Betty's yard. It was the first time in ten years that Hancock buried a man he did not kill himself.

The sun began to rise when Betty opened her eyes, her stomach empty and her head a pounding mess. She expected to see Hancock still sitting beside the bed, soothing her with kind words, but he was gone. He said she wouldn't remember anything in the morning, but he was wrong. She remembered almost everything and all she wanted to do was hug him as tight as she could.

Mouth parched, the Sole Survivor crawled out from her bed and walked into her kitchen for a bottle of water. The water was cold and soothed the dryness of her throat when she heard Hancock swear under his breath before she peeked through a gap in the wall and looked out into her backyard. The water bottle fell from her hands when she realized that Hancock was digging beneath the rugged oak tree that took up most of the yard...and Nate's body lay beside the grave, his face cleaned up and army fatigues instead of that damned blue vault suit. Hancock climbed out from the hole, his shirt drenched with sweat. He wiped his brow and leaned on the shovel before he looked over at Nate's body with a frown.

"Betty told me you was a good man," Hancock said to Nate in a low voice. "Sure seems that way. Hell, if I were a dame in your time, I'd dig ya, too. Betty is...the best gal I ever met. Jesus, she's got it all, doesn't she? Can see why you married her. I just...want ya to know that I ain't tryin' to replace ya. I've been alone for a long god damn time. Plenty of people around, but I was alone, ya feel me? I know what it's like and that ain't no kinda life for someone like Betty. We're gonna find your kid and kill those Institute assholes. Already got the bastard that shot ya. She was amazing...ruthless, even. You'd be proud. I know I was. Nothin's gonna happen to Betty, I promise ya. If it ever came down to it, I'd eat that bullet for her without a second thought."

Hancock took a hard drag of his smoke as he leaned on the shovel and added in a whisper Betty could scarcely hear, "I...I think I'm startin' to fall in love with her. Now, I ain't sorry about it, but I thought you'd appreciate the heads up. I'd wanna know if my wife was shackin' up with someone else after I was gone. Just...wanna thank you for lovin' her like ya did. I'll try to measure up."

Betty slid down the wall of the kitchen with fresh, silent tears. She loved Nate. Loved him with everything she ever had, but she couldn't love him anymore, not like she used to. He was gone and nothing would ever bring him back. She knew holding on to the thought of Nate would kill her in the end, but Betty just didn't know if she'd ever be ready to say goodbye. Until now. Nate would want her to be happy and move on with her life.

And Hancock? Betty didn't even think the word "love" was in his vocabulary, but she could no longer lie to herself. The very moment he said those words, Betty felt her heart skip a few wild beats. It seemed her partner wasn't the only one with growing feelings. She knew it was time to say goodbye to Nate...to make room in her heart and her new life.

Betty walked out into the yard and Hancock smiled at her. "Mornin', sunshine. Glad to see ya on your feet already after last night. I hope this was a decent spot. Thought the tree would make a nice marker, ya know?"

"It's perfect. He loved to sit and read the paper beneath it," she explained. "Where did you find the fatigues?"

"Some little underground bunker a few houses down."

"Oh, Old Mr. Jones' house. Nate thought he was a hoot."

"Thought it suited him better than that vault suit he was in. I'll, uh, leave you alone for a bit. I'll be inside; just come get me when you're ready and I'll..ya know."

Betty hugged her partner and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for every single thing you've ever done for me, Hancock."

He smiled and said, "Anything for you, Birdie...and I'd rather you start callin' me John, if that's all right with ya. Hancock is for the people but John...friends and family get to call me that."

"You got it, John."

"Man, it sounds good when you say it," said the ghoul with a smile.

Hancock closed the door behind him and Betty sank to the ground beside Nate's body and took his hand, still cold from the depths of the vault.

"Hey honey," Betty whispered. "I...I don't really know what to say. Yes, the woman who never could keep her mouth shut doesn't know what to say. I _do_ know who has Shaun. He's ten now, can you believe it? John and I...we're going to go after him when we find out where this Institute place is. The man who took you from me...he's gone now. I...I killed him. John told me not to feel guilty about it and I don't. I'd do it again if I could. You don't have to worry about that monster coming after me or our son anymore. Sometimes, I think about the first night I met you. At that stupid frat party? God, you were so handsome. I never thought you'd notice me. But you did, and you followed me around the frat house all night trying to figure out my major. Got it wrong every time. I mean, me, a theoretical physics major?"

She found a blue flower growing beneath a shrub beside the oak tree and plucked the blossom free before she tucked it in the pocket of the fatigues.

"I'm sorry that everything went to shit...but...I can't cling to the thought of you anymore. You'll always have a place in my heart as my first true love and the father of my only son, but my life is different, now. You wouldn't believe this, but the Minutemen are still around. They made me their General. It's crazy out here, but I'm alive and fighting back. They talk about me and the things I do for the people on the radio station and everything. It really is a wild wasteland, but I'm starting to warm up to it. There's people like John and my friends Preston and Nick who've been fighting the bad guys since day one, pretty much. I'll be safe with them at my back. So I just wanted to tell you that I love you, I miss you, and one day, we'll see each other again. I know you wouldn't want me to be lonely, just like I wouldn't want you to be alone out here, either. I heard what John said to you and...I think I'm starting to love him, too. He's saved my life so many times without thought for his own. So even though I'm stuck in this real-life hell...at least you know I'm loved and cared for."

She bent to kiss Nate one last time and whispered, "Rest easy, honey. I can take it from here."

Betty stood up and wiped the few tears that spilled onto her cheeks before she dipped inside her home to get Hancock. The ghoul sat on a barstool, resting his head in his arms when she shook his shoulder. The ghoul woke suddenly and pulled out his combat knife from beneath his coat for a moment before he smiled at his partner.

"Didn't mean to startle you," she whispered.

"No worries," Hancock assured her. He put his hand over hers and asked, "Is it time?"

"Yes."

Hancock followed Betty outside and gathered Nate's body in his arms before jumping down into the hole. His legs stung hot and sharp with the weight of Nate but this time, the ghoul remembered to pop a few Buffout pills and felt his muscles working double time. He laid Nate out and clasped his hands over his chest before smoothing down the collar of Nate's fatigues.

"Here," Betty said and she reached down to hand Hancock her wedding ring. "Could you have him hold it for me? It was his mother's."

"You sure you don't wanna keep it, Birdie?"

"I can't...that was my old life. The one that doesn't exist anymore. I have to move on...so I can keep living this one."

Hancock did as he was asked and cupped Nate's face before he said, "Rest in peace, brother. If I ever meet ya on the other side, I hope I can call you friend."

Betty helped Hancock out of the hole and blew Nate one final kiss before they buried him together.


	13. Take it Back

**Hi! Thanks so much for your reviews and favorites, holy crap! Seriously, every time I get an email about it, I get all giddy. As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Also, whoa! Didn't even know about A03!)**

* * *

Betty slept for almost two days straight after burying Nate at long last. Preston and Mama Murphy, concerned for their newly appointed General of the Minutemen, both visited Betty twice a day. After getting some much needed rest, Hancock busied himself by lending his hand wherever he was needed in Sanctuary, even going over financial aspects of the settlements with Garvey. The Minuteman was surprised to learn that the junkie mayor of Goodneighbor was pretty decent with numbers and there was a method to his madness of running a town of the lawless.

Now, nearly a week later, Betty and her Minutemen were ready to take back the Castle. Preston and a handful of soldiers had gone ahead to secure the perimeter, and to give Betty and Hancock a couple of extra days to recuperate from the ordeal within the vault. She and Hancock were about an hour away from Preston and his group, the morning chilly but beautiful.

"Feels nice to be out of bed," Betty said.

"Could've fooled us," Hancock teased. "You sure you're up to this? Garvey said we could've waited a few more days if you needed it."

"I already put my being General at risk with my behavior. I don't know what the hell got into me, taking so much Med-X like that, but it's never happening again," she said with a frown. "...You didn't have to go clean for me."

"It's just for a little while and it's good to sober up every so often. Chems don't hit ghouls as hard to begin with, and it gives 'em some of their punch back when I do start up again," Hancock explained.

A part of him regretted being so over-zealous about going clean for a few weeks, especially as his temper and hand tremors became more frequent, but he couldn't risk Betty doing something so stupid again, even if she assured him over and over that it was not an intentional overdose. That, coupled with the guilt he felt for not telling her the full truth about himself made for one very sullen ghoul.

"You could barely hold a cup of coffee this morning, John."

"The shakes will be done within a few more days. When we get to the Castle, adrenaline'll kick in and I'll be golden. Come on, Preston and his boys should be just down this road here, if I remember."

The buildings began to thin out as the sound of waves grew louder. Betty's heart began to pump with each step closer to the Castle. She still hadn't seen the ocean since leaving the vault and wasn't sure what she'd find. Would it still be blue or perhaps something more sinister? What creatures, if any, swam within its depths?

"There it is, up ahead," said Hancock with a satisfied grin. He nudged Betty with his elbow and added, "Thought we got turned around back there. Ever since Marcy fixed up Kellogg's threads for ya, I've been a little...distracted."

Betty chuckled at his honesty and looped her arm through his. "After doing what you've done for me, feel free to gawk all you want."

"With pleasure, love," Hancock whispered into her ear as he slid his hand down her back and over her hip, sending a rush up Betty's spine.

As much as he wanted to savor the feeling of digging his fingers into her flesh, guilt reared its ugly head and shoved desire aside to take its place at the very front of Hancock's mind. He had to say something to her, and though he knew she wouldn't shoot him in the head or anything like that, there was the chance that the trust he worked so hard to gain from her would be shattered the moment he confesses. All Hancock could do was hope that she'd listen to his reason for the lie before turning her back on him forever.

A sliver of ocean came into view and it took everything in Betty to not tear off her boots and run into the surf. The water was smooth, with a dark blue hue that was familiar and beautiful all at once. Waves lapped at the shoreline with an almost gentle caress. Maybe after they cleared the Castle of whatever monstrosities it held, Hancock would join her for a walk along the coastline.

Preston stepped out from a run-down truck stop, with a wave of his hat. He saluted both Betty and Hancock as he said, "Great to see you both out and about, General. Everyone's here...and there it is. Pretty impressive, huh? Its real name is Fort Independence, but the Minutemen always just called it the Castle. Now you can see why I wanted to take it back."

Betty nodded and replied, "Definitely. For over 600 years old, it's in pretty good shape!"

"And the bits that ain't, just slap on some tape..maybe a little glue, and you're set," Hancock chimed in.

Preston beamed with pride and explained, "That's right. They don't make 'em like they used to. If we take this place back, people'll know we mean business."

The pair followed Preston inside the truck stop, where the other Minutemen were busy gathering ammo and checking their guns before the fight. Garvey pointed to a suit of incomplete T-60 power armor and grabbed a small box of fusion cores off the dirty counter. "Remember how to use one of these, General? It may not be whole, but it'll protect you just the same."

Hancock rapped his knuckles against the metal helmet and said, "Nice find, Garvey! She'll get the missing pieces eventually...god knows how much crap she finds everywhere we go."

Betty shook her head with a smile and looked back at Preston. "That's wonderful, thank you. What's the plan? I'm new at this whole, General thing so forgive me if I don't get all the protocol right at first."

"No worries. Our primary objective is to clear the courtyard. That's where we'll see the most opposition. The wall on this side is the most exposed, but if we circle around south, we could also reach the main gate," Preston explained.

"Who or...what are we facing in there?" Betty asked as she sat on a stool beside Hancock.

"Mirelurk infestation," said Preston with a scowl. "...Hate those things."

Hancock broke the relative quiet with a burst of laughter as he asked, "That's all? Betty needs power armor for a few god damn mirelurks?"

A Minuteman nodded his head in agreement and shouted, "Yeah, what're we waiting for? Let's just get in there and shoot those lobsters!"

"No, if we split up, we can flank them on both sides," another Minuteman insisted. "It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel."

The third, youngest Minuteman shrugged his shoulders and added, "Why not let them come to us? We set up a firing line on this side and someone could draw them out."

The three Minutemen glanced at Hancock and the ghoul snarled, "The fuck you lookin' at me for? I ain't bait."

"What do you think, General? It's your call," said Preston.

Betty looked at the three young Minutemen who were busy laughing to themselves over Hancock's reaction and said, "I'll be the bait and draw them out...since everyone thinks it's such a keen idea."

Hancock stood up and snapped, "The hell you will-"

"-Not your call, Hancock," said Preston with a hand on the ghoul's shoulder. He dropped his voice to barely a whisper and added, "She'll be fine."

"They're just mirelurks, aren't they, John?" Betty said with a smirk.

Hancock looked away with a frustrated sigh and nodded his head. Garvey was right, and so was Betty.

Preston clapped his hands together with an excited grin and said, "All right, we'll form a firing line and General, just give us a signal when you're ready to rush in. People, you heard her. Let's move out!"

As the Minutemen gathered their weapons, Hancock tugged on Betty's wrist and said, "Birdie, what the hell are ya doing?"

She smiled and replied, "Being the kind of General I'd follow into battle."

Hancock couldn't help but be proud of his partner. "Fair enough. Where do ya want me?"

"By Preston and the others, if you can. I want to show them I can do this on my own. I mean, if I can't survive a couple of mirelurks, why the hell would they keep me as General?" Betty answered before taking the box of fusion cores and loading them into the suit of power armor. She turned the wheel and the suit opened with a hiss as she climbed in. Hancock moved to follow Preston and the others outside when Betty pulled off her helmet and said, "Where the hell are you going?"

"Out with the others, like ya asked?"

She crossed her arms and said, "You expect me to walk into the fire without any luck?"

Hancock laughed and grabbed a firm hold of her armor, pulling her close enough for the ghoul to plant a kiss on the corner of her lip. "Come back to me in one piece...General Parker."

"Always."

"Need any more luck? Can give ya a day's worth in less than ten."

"After two centuries, I'm gonna need more than ten minutes, but we have a Castle to take back."

"Business first," said Hancock before he winked and joined the other Minutemen outside the truck stop.

"..Pleasure later," Betty said under her breath as she picked up a few extra magazines.

"Heard that!" her partner shouted from outside.

She shook with laughter and thought, _Charming bastard_.

"Heard that, too!"

"How the...shut up and...keep rank out there!"

Hancock and the Minutemen burst into laughter as Betty held back her own. She gathered herself and took a moment to check her assault rifle and stepped out into the sun once more. She walked among the ranks and found Hancock on Preston' right, stifling his grin.

"Ready?" she asked the firing squad, the helmet giving her voice a metallic ring.

"For the finest fuckin' seafood boil the Commonwealth has to offer," Hancock answered, his face serious, and the men around him cheered.

The soldiers all took aim for the break in the Castle wall and waited with bated breath on their General's command.

Betty nodded and faced the ruins of the Castle. She walked past the wall and counted at least ten mirelurks scuttling about the center of the fort. Nests filled with unhatched eggs peppered the ground and she took a deep breath before taking aim at the largest mirelurk before firing off an entire clip. Two razorclaws fell and the others turned towards the source of bullets.

"Over here, assholes!" Betty shouted, shooting a few more rounds. "Right this way if you please!

She waited until she the mirelurks were almost upon her before she turned on her heel and ran to the break in the fort wall. A mirelurk that managed to sneak behind her snapped its pincers at her head and she knocked it onto its back with her arm before taking a blind shot.

"There's the General!" Preston shouted. "Remember, aim for their eyes!

"What's the signal?" a Minuteman asked.

"Who fuckin' cares! Shoot, god damn it!" shouted Hancock and the squad began to fire.

The nest of eggs closest to the broken wall hatched all at once and a group of mirelurk hatchlings crawled out and followed Betty until they found an unaware Minuteman who'd broken away from the firing squad. He was overwhelmed by the sheer number of them and screamed as they began to burrow into his skin and eat him alive.

By the time Betty reached the Minuteman and pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, he was dead and a hatchling crawled out of his mouth. She dropped the soldier to the ground with horror and shouted, "We lost him, keep firing!"

"Garvey, duck!" Hancock bellowed and Preston dropped down just in time for the ghoul to fire a blast at the mirelurk that loomed behind the Minuteman, killing it instantly.

"We need all shotguns up front, come on!" Betty shouted. The few soldiers carrying shotguns reluctantly moved forward and took aim once more.

It felt like eternity but the fight against the mirelurks didn't last long. At the end of it, everyone was gasping for breath, not expecting such a fight from some overgrown lobsters. Preston, Hancock, and the others followed Betty into the Castle center, some of the men stomping their boots into nests that have yet to hatch.

"Damn, looks like they've been nesting. We're gonna have to take out these eggs or they'll be back before we know it," said Preston.

"'Lurks like to hole up inside old buildings, so the walls are probably full of 'em," Hancock added.

Preston nodded and replied, "Sure looks that way. Here's how we're going to play this: Everyone hold here in the courtyard and take care of any eggs you find. The General and I can clear the walls."

The Minuteman beckoned Betty to follow him into the Castle itself, and she marveled at how well the fort held up after six centuries. One day, it would be swallowed whole by the vengeful sea, but the fort would survive at least another two hundred years if they were lucky.

Preston and Betty dispatched the nests they found within the walls together in silence, until Garvey spoke up, his voice low and filled with concern for his friend.

"Betty...I have to ask. What happened at Sanctuary that had Hancock banging his fist on my door at 1am for medicine?" he asked.

Betty could hardly look Preston in the eye when she admitted, "I...went to see my late husband back at the vault. I was still pretty beat up from the fight at Fort Hagen so I took some Med-X. Realized I didn't feel much on it, and when I saw him again...it was a lot to process. I was such a mess, I didn't even notice how many I took. John found me, brought me back from the brink, and sold all his chems the next day to Trashcan Carla when she was in town. Said he wanted to go clean for a few weeks."

"Sounds like he's worried you'd pull a stunt like that again...I am, too."

Betty groaned before she answered, "I had a feeling that was his motive, but I promised him so I'll promise you, too: There's nothing for either of you to worry about. Chems were never my thing, even when I was young and wild."

Preston chuckled and said, "You were wild before the war, too?"

"Didn't think I was wild at all compared to anyone in post-apocalyptia."

"Mayor Hancock brings it out of you. You're a bit grittier and more fiery since you left us."

"Had to be to survive out here."

"You know, I didn't think I'd like him much-"

"-But he grew on you?" said Betty. "That seems to be the case with most of the people he's met since leaving Goodneighbor. He tells people a good story, one that paints him in a good light of course, buys them a drink, and then they realize he's pretty awesome to be around."

They both laughed as they cleared out what used to be the General's quarters when the entire Castle foundation shook with great force. Betty and Preston stared at one another before rushing out into the courtyard to find a grand titan of a mirelurk emerging from what was left of a fort wall.

"Christ, a Queen," Preston whispered. He marched out into the courtyard and shouted, "GET INSIDE THE CASTLE WALLS!"

It was absolute chaos within the courtyard as the Minutemen gave the Mirelurk Queen all the possible hellfire they could muster. Only a few soldiers managed to escaped into the protective walls of the fort, but the rest remained pinned by the Queen, Hancock at the head of the group.

"Keep firin'!" Hancock shouted. "Give that bitch all ya got!"

The Mirelurk Queen spewed out a wave of burning, green acid, searing any exposed flesh of those unfortunate enough to be in her path before she jabbed out one of her claws, skewering a Minuteman. She lifted him to her massive maw and bit him clean in half before tossing the rest of the body across the courtyard.

Betty dashed out into the center of the courtyard and fired off her assault rifle to give the group of soldiers a fighting chance to run. The Mirelurk Queen turned and Betty swore if she wasn't wearing power armor at that moment, her legs would've given out from sheer fright.

"Birdie!" Hancock shouted as he pushed several soldiers into the safety of the Castle's walls. "Birdie, lead her away from here!"

"And then what?" she shouted back as she stumbled over a ruined nest.

"Keep shootin'!"

Betty rolled out of the way as another wave of green acid spewed from the Queen Mirelurk. She stabbed at Betty several times before the vault girl managed to scramble to her feet. She took aim at the Queen's face and prayed that whatever Hancock had up his sleeve was enough.

The moment Betty took the Mirelurk Queen's full attention, Hancock made a run and wild leap for the Queen's armored back. He climbed until he was at eye level with her, a full twenty feet above the ground.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Betty shouted.

"Kinda wingin' it!" Hancock shouted back.

He glanced down and saw Betty get to her feet and pull the trigger of her assault rifle as bullets whizzed by his head. The ghoul ducked down behind the Queen's armored head, keeping a firm hold on her shell as he dug through his pockets for the last of his grenades, one of which, much to his surprise, was a Nuka grenade.

"Well, he-llo!" he said to himself with a smirk.

The Queen spit out acid once again, melting away some of the metal on Betty's power armor before the she shouted, "God damn it, John, hurry!"

"Stop shootin' and run! Get away from her!" Hancock shouted to Betty before he muttered to himself, "Man, this is gonna fuckin' suck."

"Over here, General!" Preston shouted, waving Betty over to a small alcove.

Hancock climbed down to the Queen's shoulder and pulled the pin of the Nuka grenade before he shoved it into the Queen's gaping mouth, the other grenades soon joining it. Now, the ghoul had a choice: either jump down twenty feet or climb down, both of which didn't have a great outcome for him. He made a leap for a swinging claw as the Queen lowered it and the grenades went off in quick succession before his boots touched the ground.

The Queen screeched with her dying breath as Betty ran out into the courtyard, Preston close at her heels. "John! JOHN, ANSWER ME!"

The other Minutemen followed as Betty rammed her shoulder beneath the Queen's armored shell and pushed with all her strength, still shouting Hancock's name. A group of Minutemen lifted the heavy left claw and found the ghoul unconscious beneath it. Betty ripped off her helmet, throwing it aside and fell to her knees beside him, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but still present.

"General, does he have a pulse?" Preston asked warily.

"Barely," Betty whispered, her voice choking up. Not again, not again, to lose him now was soul-crushing pain. "Jesus...don't leave me now, John. We were just getting started.."

Preston grabbed her shoulder with a firm hand and said, "Focus, General. He's got a pulse, he's got a chance."

* * *

The last thing Hancock remembered was stuffing a live Nuka grenade down the Queen's throat...maybe adding the four frags to it was a bit of overkill. Everything, absolutely every part of his broken body was either aching, sore, or on fire. Even opening his dark eyes took effort, but at least he wasn't dead. His lucky streak since meeting Betty had not come to a fiery end.

He looked over the edge of his cot, broken ribs straining against the tight bandages and saw an empty bedroll. Betty's now scarred power armor stood in the corner, almost as if it were keeping a watchful eye on him, but all he wanted to see was his girl, her lovely blue eyes, and confess the lie that had been churning in the pit of his stomach for the past week.

Betty walked into the General's quarters, holding a large bowl of mirelurk stew one of the Minutemen prepared and screamed as she saw Hancock attempt a smile, the bowl shattering at her boots. She leapt over the mess and crouched beside the bed, taking his hand in hers.

"John," she whispered, eyes welling up with tears. "I thought I lost you.."

"W-what the hell happened?" Hancock asked as he wiped Betty's cheek with a wince of pain. "Didn't think you'd cry over me much. No reason to..."

Betty bent and kissed his cheek several times before she said, "Say that again and I'll kick your ass the second you can stand up. As for what happened, one of the grenades went off early and set off the others. You killed the Queen, but she almost took you with her."

"God..ugh!" Hancock shouted as he tried to sit up. "Damn you, Cricket! Birdie, I need ya to kick her ass for me."

"Done.

"He chuckled and asked, "How bad is the damage? Me and the Castle both."

"You should be just fine, the Castle as well, but I'd like for you to rest a little longer. I was thinking maybe you'd walk some of the coast with me before we go see Detective Valentine. I missed the ocean."

"Good, good...didn't want to kick the bucket without tellin' you something first."

Hancock tried to get up once more but Betty pressed a gentle, firm hand against his chest and shook her head. "You have to lay down, please-"

"-I lied to you, Birdie!" Hancock managed to spit out.

She stiffened at his words and sat back with hard eyes. "About what? How bad of a lie are we talking here? Bad as in, 'I ate the last snack cake when I was high and blamed it on Dogmeat' bad or more, 'I have a secret family that I left for dead' bad?"

Hancock shook his head and took her hand in his before he explained, "It's...tricky, what I'm about to say, so lemme get it all out before you decide how pissed off you wanna be. It's just...being out here with you, it's made me realize that most of my life up to this point, I've been running out on the good things I got. Skipped out on my family and my life in Diamond City. Took up with you to get the hell outta of Goodneighbor. Hell, running from myself is what made me into...into a god damn ghoul."

He took a deep breath, ignoring the stabbing pain beneath his ribs before he continued.

"But being here, with you, is the first time in my life things felt...right. And running is the furthest thing from my mind, I can promise you that. Can't stand the thought of leavin' ya, to be honest. Whether it's fate, destiny, or just god damn coincidence, I ended up with you. As long as ya want me, I'm there until the end. I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the entire Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I'd done somethin' I could hang my hat on. Now, after you became General and we took back this place I realize how small time I'd been thinkin' and maybe, just maybe, all that runnin' I did wasn't such a bad thing in the end."

"I'm not sure I understand," she said. "What do you mean, 'running from yourself'?"

"That's...what I lied about. Not even Fahrenheit knows the truth but...that chem that turned me ghoul? I...I knew it would. Wouldn't even get me high but I knew that, too. All I hoped for was that it would hurt like all hell and it fuckin' did. Like...being swallowed whole by fire for hours. I thought I was gonna croak, but...I just couldn't stand looking at that fuckin' bastard I saw in the mirror anymore. The coward who'd let all those ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys."

"Oh, John.." Betty whispered, and she squeezed his hand tight. She crawled into the bed beside him and kissed his cheek before she said, "I'm so sorry."

"I thought if I took it," he continued, trying his best not to choke up at the memory, "I'd never have to look at him again. I could put that all behind me. I'd be free. Didn't seem like a choice at all. Turns out it was just me runnin' from somethin' else in my life because every night...I still see him when I close my eyes."

"And the memory den? Don't tell me you actually-"

"-That was the only bit of truth. Every few months, I pay a visit and remind myself how it was. How I used to be."

"You don't have to punish yourself anymore. You're a great man, one of the greatest I've ever met."

"Been tryin' to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that comin' from someone like you...I...I don't know if you understand what that means to me."

Betty lay her head on Hancock's chest and he pulled her close before he lit a cigarette.

"So lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you is the best decision I've ever made. It's like I found a part of myself I never realized was missing...which happens sometimes when you're a ghoul, but don't worry, all the exciting parts are still there. If I hadn't taken up with you, I'd probably be in a gutter somewhere, gettin' gnawed on by radroaches. You've been one hell of friend."

"Friend, huh?" she said with a smirk.

"That bit ain't up to me now, Birdie."

There was a heavy knock on the door before it opened a crack and Preston asked, "I hope to god you're both decent in there."

"Yeah, she already sat on my face, don't worry," Hancock answered. Preston groaned as he walked in and Betty glanced up at her partner with questioning eyes. "Don't tell me you don't know what that means," the ghoul said with a chuckle.

"Maybe we called it something else before the war?"

Hancock's smile a bit devious, he beckoned Betty closer and whispered a rather descriptive explanation. She sat up with a gasp and swatted at his shoulder. He tried to squirm out of the way but the ghoul's injuries proved too serious and he shouted out, "Ugh, my fuckin' ribs!"

"And even if I did let you do that, you'd just...announce it to anyone walking by?" whispered Betty, her face flushed.

"Not everybody!" Hancock replied with a pained laughed. "Look at you and look at me, no one would believe me anyway!"

Preston bent down and picked up the forgotten, broken bowl with a laugh and said, "General, there's a woman here to see you, Ronnie Shaw."

Betty nodded and leaned over to give Hancock a peck on his gaunt cheek before she took to her feet. "Duty calls, I guess. You want something to eat before I go?"

"Stew smelled pretty damn good but I don't wanna keep ya, General," he replied with a wink.

"I'll bring him some, you can meet with Shaw," said Preston.

Betty left her quarters and stepped out to find the day just as beautiful as the last. She and the Minutemen harvested as much meat the previous night as they could before dragging the broken shells and mirelurk remains out to the truck stop to dispose of later.

An elderly woman, wearing military fatigues and an old beret stood beside the Radio Freedom tower, having a chat with one of the Minutemen. Betty waved and walked over to introduce herself.

"There you are! Finally! I've been waiting to talk to you," said Shaw as they shook hands.

"Here I am," Betty replied. "What did you need?"

"I'm Ronnie Shaw, Commonwealth Minutemen. At least I was, back before Joe Becker got himself killed and the idiots took over," said Shaw.

"Who's Joe Becker?"

"I heard you're new at all this, so I'm gonna give you a pass for that one. General Becker used to run the Minutemen, the last real leader we ever had. After he died, there wasn't anybody left with the guts and brains to pull things together. Then, I heard you were trying to get the Minutemen back on their feet. Thought I'd come see the new General for myself. So what's your story? What makes you think anybody even wants the Minutemen back?" asked Shaw.

"At least we're trying to help people. We have more than ten settlements now, more if you include the ones that are still empty for the time being. Can you say the same?" Betty answered coolly.

"Don't give me any attitude, girl. I've been a Minuteman longer than you've been alive," said Shaw. "But, I've heard good things about what you've been doing. Wouldn't be here otherwise."

Betty chuckled and asked, "Are you offering to rejoin?"

"Guess I am, but first things first. I'm probably the only one who still remembers this, but the Castle's armory was located in the west bastion," Shaw explained as she pointed to the door built into what was left of that side of the fort. "All our best equipment was stored in there. Weapons, ammo, schematics, you name it."

"Do you know some way to open this door?"

"No. And even if we could blast it open, we'd destroy what's inside while we're at it. So if we can't go through, we'll go around. Let's have a look at your quarters."

Betty followed Ronnie and she asked, "What's in my quarters?"

"Another way into the armory."

Ronnie Shaw walked through the door without a knock and barely even gave Hancock a glance as she examined the pile of rubble and debris beside the doorway.

"Uh...you ain't my softskin," Hancock said. "So who the fuck are ya?"

"Ronnie Shaw, Commonwealth Minutemen."

When Betty appeared in the doorway, Hancock tried to sit up with a groan and managed to rest on his elbows. "Birdie, when are you gonna let me get outta bed? I'll go feral over here!"

"Please don't," Betty answered with a laugh. "And you've been awake for less than a half hour."

"You know what Garvey did to me? He put the stew all the way over there on the table and just left me in this bed to starve," said Hancock.

Betty grabbed the still-warm bowl of stew and brought it over to her partner. Whenever he reached for it, she held it just out of reach several times until she burst with laughter when he snatched it out of her hands, spilling a bit on himself.

"God damn it," Hancock muttered. "If I weren't crazy about ya, I'd throw this stew across the room."

"Gonna need to clear this rubble here," said Shaw. "I'll grab us some shovels."

"What's goin' on, General?" Hancock asked Betty.

"Ronnie is a Minuteman from way back when and she told me about an armory here. We're trying to find another way in. Main door is locked," she explained. The ghoul tried to sit up yet again and Betty shook her head. "Don't even think about it. Should I tie you down to the bed or can I trust you to rest?"

"...What're you gonna wear when ya do tie me up?"

Betty leaned in and gave Hancock an eyeful of her chest as she whispered, "If you stay in bed...I'll wear-"

-Ronnie walked back into the room and handed Betty a shovel before they began to dig.

"Wear what?" Hancock pleaded. "Wear what?"

"Now you'll never know," Betty answered with a smirk and the ghoul threw his head back with a sigh.

When the rubble was cleared away, Betty turned to follow Ronnie down the stone steps and into the castle tunnels as Hancock shouted for her to take his .44 magnum just in case.

"Pretty dark down here," Ronnie said over her shoulder. "We'd better watch our step."

Within the tunnels, Betty could hardly see more than a foot in front of her. The darkness was of some help, as it was much easier for her to notice the frag mines strewn about and she managed to disarm any before she or Ronnie came too close.

They passed a room filled with canon balls and bags of concrete before they came across two machine gun turrets that Betty dispatched using Hancock's gun. She made a mental note to thank him later for the reminder.

When they passed a fusion core generator, Ronnie held up her hand and whispered, "The Sarge might still be down here."

"Who's the Sarge?" Betty asked.

An automated voice announced, "Sentrybot designation SARGE powering up..."

"Aw, shit," Betty muttered.

"Don't worry, it's one of ours."

"ERROR! File corruption detected," announced Sarge before he let loose a hail of bullets.

Betty and Ronnie ducked behind a pillar and waited for a break in his firing to take a few shots at the sentrybot.

"If we can get him to overheat, he'll expose his fusion cores and we can disable him!"

"Screw THAT!" Betty shouted. "He'd kill us before we get that far!"

She armed the few frag mines she disarmed from earlier and pulled a shoelace from her boot. She tied the fusion core she pulled from the generator to several of the armed mines and tossed them around the corner at the sentrybot. Sarge ran over the mines and the fusion core exploded with a searing blast that shook the very foundation of the Castle.

Shaw and Betty coughed as the thick smoke dissipated, and Ronnie clapped a hand on the Sole Survivor's shoulder.

"Too bad Sarge went haywire. He's been guarding the Castle since...forever, far as I know, but that was some quick thinking there, General."

Betty gave her a weak smile and said, "My partner's a good teacher."

Up ahead, past a now-destroyed Sarge, was a security door locked up tight and a terminal where Ronnie took a seat and began to type.

"Let's see...I used to know this password. 'One if by land'...no, that's not it. 'For the Commonwealth'...goldurnit..it's been a long time," explained Shaw.

"Unless there's another robot in here trying to kill us, take your time, it's fine."

"Nah, just 'ol Sarge...United we stand?" The security door swung open and Shaw smiled. "Yep, that was it!"

Inside the next room was another terminal and a mummified body of a man wearing a colonial type outfit. Betty almost laughed when she realized it would be something Hancock would wear, given the chance.

Shaw looked at the mummified remains and shrugged her shoulders. "That explains all the landmines. This is, well...was, General McGann. He had your job when I first joined up. Must've gotten trapped down here, but he did manage to keep the armory secure..I'll give him that much. Uniform is yours now, if you want it. This old geezer doesn't need it anymore."

Betty pulled the uniform from the body of McGann and folded it before tucking it beneath her arm. Shaw reached down and grabbed the hat, plopping it down on Betty's head.

"Rest in Peace, General. Your fight is done and the Minutemen live on," Shaw said with a salute.

Betty followed suit and said, "I'll make sure he's buried on the Castle grounds."

Ronnie snorted and replied, "No point in getting sentimental over something that happened forty years ago, but you can bury him later if you like. Come one, armory's just through here."

At the top of another set of stone steps, was the impenetrable metal door that led to the Castle courtyard. Betty pressed the button beside it and the door opened with a loud, metallic groan.

Several Minutemen pointed their muskets at Betty until they realized it was their own General, and they quickly saluted.

"There's a body down these steps here," she told her soldiers. "Bury him with care and let me know when it's done."

The Minutemen nodded and a few headed down the steps. Betty followed Shaw into the armory and was impressed with what she found. It wasn't Hancock's strongroom, but it held its own...and enough firepower to deal with any foolish enough to attack.

"Here," said Ronnie as she handed Betty a set of papers. "Schematics to build artillery."

"Like...mortars?" Betty asked with a bit of excitement.

"Kills your enemies from miles away."

"I'll have Preston start building them right away. Thank you, Ronnie. My soldiers could use someone with a little experience showing them how it's done."

"Welcome. I'll get started on some drills, if you'd excuse me, General."

"Of course."

Shaw saluted her General before Betty rushed out into the courtyard and flagged down Preston, who was just about to leave for a supply run. She handed him the schematics without a word and watched as his face contorted from one of confusion to one of absolute joy. He hugged Betty, forgetting that she was a General for a moment and called over several Minutemen to help gather the materials needed to rebuild.

Now that everything seemed to be falling into place for the Minutemen, Betty decided to pay a visit to a ghoul who was probably losing his mind with boredom. She headed for her quarters and found Hancock sitting up in bed, smoking a cigarette and reading an issue of Guns and Bullets.

"The fuck was all that shakin' earlier? Thought another Queen wandered in," said Hancock as he lowered the magazine. "You all right, love?"

"I made a bomb out a fusion core and some frag mines I found down in the tunnels. Blew up a rogue sentrybot," she explained as she sat on the bed beside her ghoul. "It was fucking awesome, you should've seen it."

"Woulda seen it if you let me get out of bed," Hancock grumbled. He nodded towards the hat Betty still wore and asked, "What's with the hat?"

"Oh!" Betty laughed as she tossed the hat on the table. She stood up and unfolded the uniform tucked beneath her arm to show Hancock. "This is the General's uniform. Neat, huh?"

"Very cool."

She smiled as she looked over the General's uniform and began to fold it neatly when Hancock asked, "What the hell are you doin', Birdie?"

"Putting it away?"

"The hell you are, wear it!" He took the uniform from her hands and unfolded it before he said, "You're General of the Minutemen. You, Birdie. And folks out there in the wasteland are gonna be lookin' for the babe in the navy coat. They gotta look up to someone so why not the bad ass who killed Kellogg, the Sole Survivor of Vault 111?"

Betty chuckled and whispered, "You really think I can do it all? Find Shaun, command the Minutemen army, and help the Commonwealth?"

"Every damn day since I've met ya. C'mon, lemme help you with it."

Hancock helped Betty with her coat and turned her to face him as he buttoned it for her.

"Go on, take a look, and maybe you'll finally see what I see," he said as he pointed to a mirror beside the door.

Betty hardly recognized the woman staring back at her. No longer was she a straight edge attorney. Now, she truly was a defender of the people. And damn did she ever look the part.

"I'm a General," she whispered. "Fucking hell."

"And a damn fine one at that!" said Hancock. "Beautiful, too. C'mon and sit. Tell me about this makeshift Nuka grenade you came up with and the armory. I hate missin' all the action."

The ghoul lifted his arm with a wince but managed to make room for his girl as she explained in great detail what happened to her as he was stuck in bed.


	14. Bunkmates

**You guys are the best! I love reading your reviews and seeing new people following, all that. So...a few of you have asked for something a bit on the saucy side. Well, this chapter has a hint of that at the end. Enjoy this chapter (and your bit of smut). As always, thanks SO much for following, reviewing, favoriting. You rock!**

* * *

After being bed-ridden for three full days, Hancock nearly dragged Betty away from the Castle when he was well enough to travel again. Up the coast, down, across the Commonwealth again and back, it didn't matter to him. As long as Betty was at his side, all was right in his world.

Though the day was a bit overcast, Betty walked through the surf in her full General's regalia, boots in hand and her pants rolled up to her knees. Hancock's arm hung over her shoulders as he passed a cigarette between them. It was effortless, to be with Betty, and Hancock couldn't feel more grateful as he wove his fingers through her silky hair.

"You were right about the hat, you know," said Betty as she tipped the General's hat back to get a better view of her ghoul.

Hancock chuckled and said, "I'm always right about that shit. Clothes can make the man. How's the water feel?"

"Freezing, but I missed it so much I don't care," she replied. She gazed out to the ocean and asked, "Isn't it beautiful?"

Hancock nodded and said, "Didn't think anything left out here could still be so pretty...present company excluded.."

"I bet you say that to all the girls you've had," Betty said with a laugh.

"Haven't had you yet, and I'm still sayin' it. Most of the others, well, didn't have to bother with much sweet talk. Hell, I didn't know their names half the time. But I ain't one to say shit I don't mean."

"Yet?" Betty asked with a grin. "You're so sure about us?"

"Surest bet I'd ever make. And really, what's the worst that could happen? We don't fit right together? So what? Ain't enough to sever us or nothin'. But the other side of the coin, though...that's what makes me a gamblin' man. My kinda risk." Hancock pulled out a flask from his pocket and took a few mouthfuls. There was something about the sea and booze that just went well together.

Betty shuddered as Hancock's hand drifted from her ponytail to the bare skin of her nape with a slow and gentle grip. It felt a bit masochistic to have the hand of a killer stroke a spot so vulnerable, but what a hell of a thrill it was.

"Might wanna put your boots on, love. End of the line up ahead and back into the city," he said.

The vault girl waded back into the ankle-deep water to rinse her feet of sand and squealed with surprise as her ghoul scooped her up and carried her back to a bench at the edge of the small beach. She propped her feet on his knee to dry them for a few minutes as they shared another cigarette.

"So, this Cricket who sold you the duds, she's at Bunker Hill?" Betty asked.

Hancock took another swig from the flask in his coat pocket before he replied, "Best place to catch her besides the outskirts of Diamond City."

"You're not going to kill her, are you?"

He shook his head. "Just gonna scare her a little. I gotta warn ya, Cricket's a pain in the ass to deal with. Our...discussion is gonna come off as a helluva lot worse than it is. No matter what happens, ya can't step in unless I ask ya to. Cool?"

"As long as you know what you're doing...is she going to hit you or something? If that's the case, maybe I should wait somewhere else for a while," said Betty with furrowed brows.

"Why, you gonna slug her if she does?" he asked with a laugh.

"...I might point a gun at her," she replied as she slipped on her boots.

Hancock held Betty's chin and said, "In all seriousness, Cricket ain't one to fuck with. Gal's got heat like ya wouldn't believe. Keep your cool and it'll turn out fine."

Even during her wilder youth, Betty was never much of a scrapper. Her cohorts were the muscle, and she was the brain. The wasteland brought a fierceness out in Betty she didn't know she had, and the more it showed, the braver she felt. If any of those punks saw her now, they wouldn't believe their eyes. She knew just who to thank for her new-found bravado, and she took Hancock's hand as they continued toward town.

* * *

As night fell, the trading town of Bunker Hill stood out among the ruins with its bright lights and flurry of travelers coming and going. Betty followed close behind Hancock as they walked up the stone steps and into town, the ghoul checking behind trash bins and dark corners as they walked. At the town's center was an open-air market where most of the caravans had permanent trading posts, their wares displayed openly on the counters as weathered guns for hire watched for any trouble.

"Now...where's that fuckin'...CRICKET!" Hancock shouted.

A strung-out young woman lifted her head from a counter at the back of the market, two hulking guards on either side of her, and a needle still stuck in the crook of her elbow. The hood of her yellow jacket slipped back and revealed a mane of wiry, brown hair that hadn't been combed or washed in months.

"Shit!" yelled Cricket. She reached for her pistol with shaking hands as the ghoul rushed over and pulled her by the collar over the counter.

Both guards pointed their rifles at Hancock's head as he grinned and said, "Let's talk about them grenades you sold me last time."

Betty couldn't help but move for her assault rifle, but Hancock lifted his free hand and motioned for her to back away without catching the attention of the others. As much as she didn't trust the guards to be trigger happy, she trusted her partner, and took a step back before resting her hands on her hips.

Cricket cackled with laughter and asked, "How did those handfuls of hot, hot, heat treat you? Better than sex, right?"

"Where the fuck do you get off sellin' me a bunch of duds and a Nuka that damn near killed me?" Hancock growled.

"Duds?" she croaked.

"Yeah, DUDS, ya batshit little psychopath! But the best part was that Nuka grenade you slipped in there, a surprise, I'm sure. Bitch went off early and almost snuffed me! Ask her!" he snarled as he pointed at his partner.

Cricket and her guards turned to look at Betty, who nodded and said, "At least two of the frags were duds and the Nuka grenade _did_ pop too early. Took me a few days to put John back together again."

The junkie arms-dealer glanced back at Hancock and gave him a wide, frightening grin as she said, "Can't control duds, Hancock."

"Ya can by not leavin' 'em out in the rain and shit! I bought those the day after that big rad storm passed over Goodneighbor, you know, where you pick up your weekly chem order? Maybe I've been too generous with my pricing..."

"Ohhhhhh...but that wasn't me! Pete here," she nodded towards one of her guards, "Pete was the one that left them out!"

"I t-tried to dry t-them all," the guard called Pete stuttered. "Even set one off t-to t-test t-them."

Hancock let go of Cricket and asked her, "How're ya gonna make this right, girl?"

Cricket stood in perplexed thought for a moment before she shot her guard in the head without warning or mercy, and looked to the ghoul for approval. Pete fell to the floor at Betty's boots and when she looked around in shock, she found that no one around them had even noticed what unfurled and continued with their business.

"Works for me," said Hancock with an appreciative nod. "Might wanna get better goons next time...or maybe ease off the psycho, and that's _me_ sayin' that!"

Cricket scratched at her neck and arms with a shrill laugh. "New goon sounds good, but I love my psycho...and my bullets.."

"Don't we all?" asked Hancock. "See ya at Goodneighbor soon?"

"Few days! Running low on my stash" Cricket chirped as she searched below the counter. She pulled out a couple of Nuka grenades and tossed them to the ghoul as Betty threw herself behind the counter, waiting for an explosion that never manifested. "To make up for those duds, yeah?"

Doing her best to not stare at the blown out end of the guard's head, Betty gave Cricket a weak smile and asked, "What kind of weapons do you normally sell...when you're not..shooting up or murdering your own guards?"

"If it can chamber, cock, and spit out lead, then I sell it. I sell slashers and clobberers, too, for those maniacs that like it up close," Cricket explained with a nod towards a grinning and very smug Hancock. "But hot death flying faster than the speed of sound...oh, my knees are getting weak just thinking about it."

"See, I ain't the only one who gets hard over a good gun," said Hancock.

"Will you still be here in the morning?" Betty asked as she rolled her eyes and dusted herself off. "We might need some ammo."

"Likely, and a part of every big purchase goes to planting little bitty trees that I'll blow up in your honor!"

Betty nodded slowly and muttered, "That's just what we need, _less_ trees in the Commonwealth."

The pair waved good bye and Hancock steered them in the lodge's direction, far away from the deranged Cricket. The town was much busier than Betty expected it to be, and there were moments the crowd threatened to separate them, but Hancock's grip on her hand held firm.

Hancock's arm encircled Betty's waist and he said, "I'm gonna grab a drink. You wanna get a place to crash for the night?"

She nodded and replied, "I'd kill for a real bed and a hot shower."

"Here, you'll get both, no killin' required," he said with a wink. "Save that fire for another day."

Betty watched him walk over to the bar portion of the lodge, tended by an aging caravanner as she waited in line to rent a room from his son. There was something about the way Hancock held himself that made a grin appear on Betty's face, almost as if he were posing for a royal portrait. Damn it all if he wasn't one handsome bastard.

"New around here? I'd remember if someone like you passed through town," said the bartender's son to Betty with a smile when she walked up to the counter. "Don't see many gals like you out that often."

Hancock studied her face while he waited for the bartender to make his way over to him and decided right then if there were any sign Betty was into the young buck, he'd keep his distance, as much as it would sting. Surprised to see her mouth wrinkle into a smile, he waited on bated breath for her answer.

"That's very sweet of you to say but I'm here with someone," she said.

"Who's the lucky son of a bitch that snagged you? I gotta buy him a beer," said the bartender with a chuckle.

Hancock strolled over to the counter, his grin quite pompous, and answered, "That'd be me. Nice place you got here."

The bartender took a step back and replied, "Yeah, we wanna keep it that way."

Betty and Hancock both scowled as the ghoul asked, "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

The young man smiled, his cheeks ruddy, and said, "It means, Mayor Hancock, that your reputation precedes you and we don't want any trouble."

"Formal title and everything! Bring me somethin' strong, and charge it to my beauty over there when she's done with our business," said Hancock.

Betty laughed and said, "I heard that!"

The bartender poured two shots of moonshine before passing one to Hancock. The ghoul downed his drink and explained, "You see, she holds the purse strings in our relationship. If it were up to me, I'd blow all our caps on booze and chems, but she won't let me have any fun."

"What? You're high right now!" she chimed in.

The young man lowered his head before he said to Betty, "My apologies; didn't know you were Hancock's girl."

"No harm, no foul," Betty insisted. "Any room for us to stay for a night?"

"Only got a set of bunks left," he said.

"Hey, I'm not going to complain about a real bed."

Betty counted out the few caps for the room and thanked the young man and his father before following Hancock up a ladder, who carried several newly purchased bottles of liquor in his arms.

"So, if I heard right, you're my girl now?" Hancock asked as he held aside the curtained door to their tiny room, containing only the set of bunk beds, an end table, and a lone chair.

Betty smiled and said, "I'm surprised you didn't step in right away when that kid was hitting on me."

"I knew you had it, and 'sides, I wasn't gonna interfere if you wanted to have a good time."

The ghoul set the bottles on the end table and dropped his pack and shotgun to the floor beside the bunks with a groan. He may have recovered from the encounter with a vengeful Queen Mirelurk, but still his ribs gave him a bit of trouble at the end of the day. Getting shitfaced sounded like a proper thing to do.

"But you know I'm happy with...with..." Betty began to say, but she couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"Say it, love," Hancock said, his voice rough.

Betty knew the moment she admitted her feelings for her partner, they'd never be the same again. There was a chance that it would be the one of the greatest things to ever happen to her in the Commonwealth, but if they crumbled...she didn't even want to think of something so awful. It was one thing to lose a lover, but to also lose your partner and best friend all in one shot? Betty wasn't sure if they could go through such turmoil and come out unscathed.

"I know this ain't...easy for ya, with all that's goin' on in your life and certain things already stacked against us, with me bein' too god damn handsome for the Commonwealth to handle and all. But I ain't never tread these sort of waters with a dame before, 'specially one I'm so crazy about. Don't feel right if I'm the aggressor, you feel me? You want more for us, just say the word and I'm all yours."

Hancock took Betty's hand and he kissed it before she walked into his embrace. It was times like these that reminded Betty that such a risk could be worth it, and more of her hesitation melted away.

"Thanks for not being pushy about anything," she murmured, fixing the collar of his coat. "I know this can't be easy for you, either and for the record, I don't give a damn what anyone thinks of us. It means a lot that you're willing to give me the time. I promise I won't need much more."

"Ain't nothin'," he said, kissing her cheek. "You can hit the showers first if you want, I'll clean out the guns and go when you come back."

"Here's hoping it's hot water."

* * *

When Betty returned from the shower, shivering and wrapped in a towel, Hancock had just finished cleaning out the last of their guns and his arms and hands were covered in grease.

"The...uh...water hot?" he asked, not at all ashamed to stare in such a lascivious manner.

Betty smirked and answered, "For less than a minute, although I didn't stay there longer than I had to. Not exactly used to communal showers. An old woman actually grabbed at my chest and asked how I'm able to keep them so-"

"-Perky? Been wonderin' the same, myself," he quipped. She chuckled and grabbed a clean shirt for him from his pack and hung it over his shoulder. "Thanks, love. Gonna grab some grub on the way back, you want anything?"

Betty shook her head and Hancock dipped beneath the curtain as she searched through her things for something to wear. The pair had no further plans for the night and she looked forward to shooting the shit with her partner. Perhaps this was a night to push herself a little more, and she decided that a simple white t-shirt and underwear would suffice for lounge wear. Besides, she wouldn't admit it to her ghoul any time soon, but she very much enjoyed the way he looked at her and hoped this would be enough to test the waters with someone new. After she dressed, she grabbed a dog-eared issue of Tumblers Today someone left on the nightstand and flopped onto the bottom bunk.

A half hour later, Betty looked up from her magazine and saw Hancock slip through the curtained doorway, wiping his face with the shirt that hung around his neck. His pants sagged dangerously low without a belt and his untied boots forced him to shuffle whenever he took a step.

"I have a weird question for you," Betty asked, an idea forming in her mind. She was positive Hancock would amuse her...and all she had to do was ask.

"Then I probably got a weird answer," Hancock replied with a laugh. "What's up?"

"Here, sit," she said, moving aside and patting the space beside her on the bed. Hancock slipped one arm through his shirt before Betty said, "You might wanna hold off on that."

The ghoul stood with mild surprise for a moment before he rushed over, undoing his zipper and said, "Oh, Birdie, I'm gonna be so good to you-"

"-Whoa, whoa, down boy!" Betty told him with a smirk. While she appreciated such enthusiasm to please her, she wasn't quite sure if she could go further with him just yet, considering there wasn't much privacy to their room. "I believe you, but could you sit and give me a second? I'm trying not to have a panic attack."

Hancock sat and turned to face her, a bit of concern written on his face. His heart beat wildly out of his chest with anticipation for her request. Didn't matter what it was, because it had to be good if Betty decided to wear nothing more than a thin shirt and underwear. As much as the ghoul wanted to admire the bare flesh of her legs that peeked out beneath rumpled bed sheets, he forced himself to look at her eyes and found a lump in his throat instead.

Betty held her hands above his bare chest and asked, her voice soft, "Is it all right if I..if I touch? I just want to-"

"-Go for it," Hancock encouraged.

Betty rested her hands on his chest and dragged her fingertips down the grooves, dips, and smooth areas of his scarred skin. As her palm came to a rest over his thumping heart, he let out a sharp breath and she froze in place. "Please, if I'm making you uncomfortable-"

"-No, not all. Just don't ask me to uh, stand up anytime soon. Heh, full mast over here."

Her hands flew to her lap and she said, "Oh c'mon, really? _That_? I barely touched you!"

Hancock laughed and said, "Just messin' around, I ain't _that_ easy. Go ahead, I won't tease ya anymore."

Gaining back some assurance from his words, Betty thought that a more impersonal area would be best for her next bit of exploration. She traced the muscles carved into his forearms and biceps before she took his hand and brought it up to her face for a closer look.

"Make a fist?" she asked. Hancock curled his fingers into his palm and Betty wrapped both hands around his one. It was solid and surprised at such heaviness, she said, "I'd never want to be on the receiving end of this when you're pissed."

"Never."

"I know."

Hancock raised his brow and suggested, "You should give my face a closer look, too, if ya like. That was the craziest change when I turned. Couldn't keep me away from a mirror; kept seein' a stranger starin' back at me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Ain't been an easy road, but it was worth it to get to you."

Betty smiled and peered into his dark eyes, her face closer to his than it had ever been and he had to fight his instincts to kiss her. Not just yet.

"Your eyes weren't always so dark, were they?" she asked as she ran her thumb over the ridge where his eyebrows would be.

"Nah, just a side effect from the chem. Used to be green."

"And your hair?"

"Blonde, wavy, and wild. Wore it in a bun, that's how long I kept it," he answered.

She chuckled and said, "Sounds like it suited you."

"Oh, it did. Only part of me I really miss."

Betty's hands drifted down to feel his cheekbones and jaw, and she was even bold enough to brush her fingers over his lips, a hint smoother than the rest of his skin. She began to lean away and Hancock turned his face and kissed her on the corner of her lip. She sat back, startled, and he laughed loudly.

"C'mon, I had to, you were right there!" he said to her. She laughed as well until he held out his hands over her chest and asked, "My turn?"

Betty gave him a light punch in the gut and he keeled over to the floorboards, mocking her strength.

"Ass. Go read a book," she said with a grin before she picked up her magazine again.

"A cold shower would be better but I already had one of those and I ain't standin' in line again." Hancock sat down on the bed beside her and asked, "You gonna tell me why you felt me up? I didn't even get dinner, candy, nothin'. You'd think you didn't love me at all."

Betty chuckled and answered, "Honestly? I was curious, but you're not as different as I thought. It's nice. Familiar."

"Ain't fair I can't play a game like that. I think I'd get shot."

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed his hand and put it on her breast before she went back to reading. "There, you big baby. Now we're even."

Hancock laughed at the new, bolder Betty before he laid down beside her and said, "I can die a happy man now."

"Because you felt up my chest?"

 _"_ Nope, 'cause you felt up _my_ chest."

She got up, tossing the magazine on the table and looked over the labels on the bottles of liquor, opening the ones without to smell their contents until she found her prize: a dusty bottle of bourbon.

"Make me one would ya, please?" Hancock asked.

She held up the bottle and asked, "How about we skip the glasses and just get lit instead? I think we deserve some fun for a night."

Hancock reached for his pack and pulled out a small green bottle of Daytripper, one of the chems Betty had given him as a gift and one of the few he didn't sell off to Trashcan Carla.

"Is it cool with ya if I add this into the mix?" he asked. "Been saving it for a night like tonight."

"Of course," said Betty.

Hancock opened the bottle and shook several pills into his mouth as Betty offered him the bottle of bourbon, but the ghoul held his hand up and swallowed the pills dry with a wince.

"Hardcore," said Betty before taking a few gulps of booze. It burned all the way down, but the warmth it created beneath her skin made up for it in spades.

He climbed up into his bunk and settled beneath the sheets with a short whistle, excited to see where the night, and chems, would take him. She climbed into the bunk as well and sat across from him before she propped her feet up in his lap. They chatted back and forth about their lives until the bottle was nearly finished. Betty turned up the radio on her Pip-boy and "The Wanderer" began to play. Her partner tapped his foot to the beat as he hummed the melody.

"I used to be a wanderer way back when," he said as he lit up a cigarette.

"You mean a month ago?" Betty teased as she looked at him with a devilish grin and whispered, "How many notches do you have in your belt?"

Hancock laughed and said, "Aw, come on, no dame wants to hear that shit."

"I'm serious! I can only imagine the free for all out here with the way things turned out."

"Close to 150 by now," he answered with a smart-ass grin. "Not that I...keep track of that kinda shit.."

Betty's jaw dropped. "And thought my friends and I were a wild bunch.."

"You gonna answer, too?"

Betty smirked and whispered, "Nine."

"Didn't even break into double digits," he said with a laugh. "I can't fuckin' believe it."

"I just might!"

"Oh yeah? I did say I'd show ya the ropes...might even have some in my pack," said Hancock as he sat up and pulled the sheets away, the effects of Daytripper in full swing. His hand slid up her leg, giving his partner chills, and when he reached for the waistband of her underwear, Betty held him back by pressing her bare foot into his chest. He moved her ankle so it rested over his shoulder, and when he glanced between her legs at the thin piece of fabric that separated him from heaven on earth, he growled, "How 'bout I just bury my face in you, then? I can't even imagine how good you must tast-"

"-Do I have to get a chair and a whip?" she asked with a smirk, her face flushed upon hearing such forwardness. "I-I feel like a lion tamer with you around."

"Dunno what the hell a lion is, but I'm all for that chair and whip ya mentioned."

Betty jumped down from the top bunk with a squeal as Hancock threw himself at the now empty space.

"One day, you'll say yes," he said, his voice muffled by the sheets. "And you'll say it again. And again."

Betty climbed into her bunk and beneath the sheets as she replied, "Yeah, yeah."

The ghoul's fist appeared by her head, a bump expected. She smiled and wrapped her hand around his instead. Hancock wasted no time in uncurling his fingers and clasping hers.

"Night, John...and if I feel that bed of yours shaking in the middle of the night, so help me-"

Hancock laughed hysterically and looked over the edge of his bed. "I was wonderin' if you ever noticed that shit!"

"God, really?!"

He couldn't stop his howl of laughter even if his life depended on it. "You know," he said between breaths, "You know I was just fuckin' with ya all those times, right? Just wanted to see what you'd do."

"What the hell did you expect, for me to go up and check on you?" she asked.

"Yeah and then...maybe you'd give me a helpin'-"

Betty pulled her hand away and laughed. "-My god, I can't stand you sometimes."

"Send me back to Goodneighbor, then."

"Never," she said with a smile. "Where would I be without you?"

"You'd still make it," said Hancock reaching for her hand again. "It just wouldn't be as fun."

They were quiet for some time before Betty whispered, "John? You asleep yet?"

Hancock scoffed and answered, "'Course not, I'm trippin' balls up here."

"Come down here with me?"

"Gonna spoon with ya if I do; hittin' the 'warm and fuzzy' stage of the trip."

Betty chuckled and said, "That's all right."

Hancock climbed down from his bunk and under the sheets beside her. She nestled beneath his arm and pressed her face into his bare chest. Like Hancock, she felt she'd finally found her place here in the wasteland. Her eyes drifted to his ruined skin and she kissed his chin at the thought of what he went through and saw it more as an unorthodox badge of honor. It drove her desire forward, to be loved by someone so wild and strong-hearted.

Hancock beamed as he looked down at Betty against his bare chest. Fate was never something he put much thought into. If anything, the ghoul often wondered at night what he'd done to deserve someone like her, beautiful and brave. He entertained the idea of settling down some time ago at Fahrenheit's suggestion but he never met someone worth doing so with until her. She was it, and all he had to do was lean forward and-

-Betty's soft snore almost sent him into a fit of laughter. Not tonight it seemed, but the moment seemed closer than ever.


	15. Mind of a Killer

**Hello all! Goodness, I'm so flattered by all of your reviews and follows, and I always read every single one of them, even if I don't reply all the time (most likely b/c I'm writing, haha)! Sorry this chapter took a bit longer than the norm, but I think I got it just right. Memory part was tough. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Oh, btw, smut AHOY! (At the end, in case that's not your thing. No judgments here)**

* * *

Hancock and Betty arrived at Diamond City and yet again, faced the challenge of getting the ghoul inside. Betty peeked into the ticket counter area where the guards hung out, but didn't find the one guard who she convinced to let them pass with Mama Murphy's words.

"Got an idea," Hancock whispered as he looked over a large group of traders who've already passed the guard's inspections.

"Oh god," Betty replied. "What are you cooking up in that head of yours, John?"

The guards opened the gate for the traders and Hancock grabbed Betty's wrist as they ran past security with booming laughter.

Several guards gave chase and one shouted,"Hey! Get back here, you fucking freak!"

"No ghouls in Diamond City!" Hancock mocked in a shrill voice, Betty overcome with laughter.

They rushed behind the marketplace, knocking aside several residents with security just steps behind. The pair ducked into a dark alleyway close to Nick's office and wedged themselves into the tight spot. Betty leaned her head against Hancock's chest to catch her breath and his hand came to a rest at the nape of her neck.

"They musta gone around that corner, then!" a security guard shouted, and the sound of several pairs of combat boots came jogging towards the pair.

Hancock grabbed her hand before they made one more mad dash towards Valentine's office. The ghoul almost tore the door off its hinges, and they made it inside as several security guards passed. Valentine looked up from his desk and the reporter, Piper, stood beside him, notepad in hand. Betty leaned against the door, chest heaving with each breath, and Hancock chuckled to himself at security's reaction over their little stunt.

"Are you two all right?" Nick asked as he stubbed out his cigarette. He reached into his desk and pulled out a pistol before he asked, "Were you followed here?"

"Nah, just runnin' from security," said Hancock with a shrug. "Gate was wide open for a caravan. Idiots."

Nick rolled his eyes and asked Betty, "Where's your son? What happened?"

Betty slumped down into a chair, winded from their run through the marketplace. She took a deep breath before she answered, "You were right, Nick. Kellogg took my son, but that wasn't all. He was working for the Institute. He...gave them Shaun."

"The Institute? Hoo boy..." Piper said.

Detective Valentine grasped Betty's hand for a moment with a kind smile and said, "I'm sorry, friend. Truly. That makes things...considerably more complicated."

"He ain't kiddin'," said Piper. "Heck, Nick's a synth and even he doesn't know how to get in."

Nick shook his head and said, "No synth does. Security protocols strip those memories out."

"I need to find a way," Betty whispered. "I'll do anything."

Piper frowned and said, "I've been investigating those creeps for over a year now...but no dice. To this day, there's one thing nobody really knows..."

"-Where the institute actually is. Or how to get in," said Nick.

"But there's one person who must know, right? The guy who handed them her son?" Piper asked.

"Let me guess," Nick asked Betty. "Kellogg wasn't the talk and surrender type, was he?"

Hancock cleared his throat and said, "He was more of a...six bullets to the dome, sorta guy. Dead as a fuckin' doornail now...that piece of shit."

"So, a murdering kidnapper gets his brains blown out by an avenging parent." Piper sighed and added, "It'd be a great ending to a story if we didn't have the Commonwealth's biggest mystery to solve."

"And I'd do it again," Betty said. Hancock's hand found its way to the back of her neck and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"...'Gets his brains blown out'. Huh...His brains. You know, we may not need the man at all."

Hancock clapped his hands together and said, "Nicky, tell me you're thinkin' what I'm thinkin'!"

"The Memory Den," Nick confirmed with a nod.

Hancock nudged Betty's pack and said, "That metal shit you ripped outta the bastard's head? Should have some meat left on it."

"Gross, dude!" Piper groaned.

"Grisly, but what choice do we have?" Nick said. "We got no leads. Nothing. That old merc's brain just might have all the secrets we need to know."

"And if anyone can get a dead brain to sing...it'll be Dr. Amari," Hancock assured Betty.

"I hope this works.." she said, her voice low.

"'Course it will. Amari is a fuckin' genius."

Nick pushed his chair back with a scrape and pulled his coat and hat on. "I'll head over to the Memory Den right away. You two coming with or meeting me there?"

"We can head over with ya, Nicky," said Hancock.

"I do owe Piper an interview," said Betty. She looked at the reporter and asked, "Would it take long?"

"Not at all," said Piper with a smile. "Would you mind giving me an interview as well, Mayor Hancock?"

Piper had always wanted to interview the fearsome Mayor Hancock in person. But two incredible interviews in one day? Publick Occurrences wouldn't be able to keep up with the demands and McDonough would flip if he found out that not only had a ghoul made it into the city, but it was the ghoul he hated most.

"It'd be an honor, kid," Hancock replied.

Nick pulled out a gas mask from a filing cabinet near the door and Hancock snatched it from his hands before the synth could smirk.

The group followed Piper through the marketplace, with Hancock in the middle, blocked from security's prying eyes. Piper opened the door to Publick Occurrences and Betty watched her partner tear the mask from his face with a scowl before he threw it in the trash. A young girl about Shaun's age stacked newspapers in a corner, wearing a parka that was much too large and a pre-war camera that hung around her neck.

"That's my little sister, Nat," Piper said to Betty and Hancock, "who's supposed to be in school but has _detention_ again..."

Piper's younger sister, distracted from her chores by the newcomers, marched right up to Hancock, tugged on his coat, and took his picture with a bright flash. Piper laughed into Betty's shoulder and apologized to the ghoul on Nat's behalf.

"Wait, wait, that one ain't gonna be any good. _This_ is my good side," said Hancock before he turned and flashed a cunning smile. The little girl giggled and took his picture again.

"What's up with the camera, little lady?" Betty asked.

"I like taking pictures of weird things, and that guy's definitely the weirdest." Piper's younger sister replied in earnest, sending Betty and Piper into hysterics. "What's your name? And what's wrong with your skin?"

Nick rest his hand on Nat's shoulder and murmured, "What did I tell you about those sort of questions, Nat?"

"Nah, it don't bother me, brother. Kid's just curious is all," Hancock insisted as he took a seat on the couch and propped his boots up on the coffee table. He held out his hand to Nat with a smile and said, "The name's John, and I'm a ghoul."

"The mayor says ghouls are monsters and can't come inside the city," said Nat, giving Hancock's hand a rough shake for a ten year old girl. "You sure you're tellin' the truth?"

"McDonough's a bully and a major asshole. Everyone's the same. Ghoul, human, synth, it don't matter," Hancock answered. "All should be treated fairly."

"Piper says that a lot," said Nat with a smile. "That everyone should be treated the same, not the cussin' part, and you're way nicer than Mayor McDonough."

Valentine chuckled and said to Nat, "Make sure you say that to him next time he comes over to yell at your sister."

The reporter, with notepad and pencil in hand, pulled Nat out of the way before inviting Betty to take a seat beside Hancock. Nick stood by the door, smoking a cigarette, and Nat brought an ashtray over to him. The synth smiled down at her and wrapped a metal arm around her shoulder.

"So here's the deal. I want an interview. Your life story in print. I think it's time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth."

Betty took a seat on the couch beside Hancock and asked, "What kind of interview is this going to be?"

"I ask who you are, get your opinion on life out there, and maybe load up a few tough questions and keep it interesting. What do you say?"

Betty looked over at her partner, who was showing off with a butterfly knife Nat had brought over to him, flipping it through his fingers with ease as the young girl watched with wide eyes.

"I'm in," she replied.

"Let's get down to business, then. So, I know you're from a vault. How would you describe your time on the inside?" Piper asked, her pencil awaiting Betty's answer.

"My family and I were frozen. You know, cryo stasis, so I didn't spend much time in there," Betty explained.

Piper held up her hands and said, "Wait, wait a second. They boxed you up in a fridge? The whole time? Are you saying you were _alive_ before the war?"

"My family and I made it to vault just as the bombs hit the city. I've never seen anything so powerful...and I hope I never do again," she replied.

"All right, so you've seen the Commonwealth, Diamond City-"

"-Goodneighbor!" Hancock interrupted.

Piper laughed and added, "Yes, and Goodneighbor. How does it all compare to your old life?"

"Honestly? Seeing everyone surviving out here? People like Mayor Hancock and the Minutemen rebuilding the world? It gives me hope."

"That's...surprisingly inspired, Blue. We're definitely quoting that. Now, the big question: You came all this way looking for your son, Shaun. Where's his father, and why isn't he looking, too?"

Hancock and Nick stiffened at Piper's question, but they knew the reporter had no idea about Nate. Hancock reached out to rest his hand on Betty's knee when the sole survivor answered, "The Institute murdered my late husband when they kidnapped my son. I've already killed their agent who did it, and now I'm on my way to find them..and Shaun."

Piper sighed and whispered, "I'm sorry. That's...that's heartbreaking. Not even a child is safe from them. And people wonder why I can't just look the other way..."

"I'm going to find him," Betty said, her voice firm.

The reporter nodded and said, "For the last part of our interview, I'd like to do something different. I want you to make a statement to Diamond City directly. The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the Commonwealth. Everyone wants to pretend it doesn't happen. What would you say to someone out there who's lost a loved one, but might be too scared, or too numb to the world, to look for them?"

"No matter how much you want to give up, don't. You have to have hope. That you'll see them again or at least, that you'll know the truth. And if that doesn't work...get pissed off. Make those people pay for what they've done and when you can't do it on your own," Betty looked at Hancock and gave his hand a squeeze before she added, "Find someone that has your back...who can hold you up when you don't have the strength to do it yourself."

"A strong note to end on, Blue. Thanks."

"Blue?" Betty asked with a smile.

"I know you're not wearing the suit, but I knew you were a vault dweller when we first met. Pip-boy is a dead giveaway. That and those eyes, of course," Piper explained. The reporter turned to Hancock and asked, "Are you ready for your interview, Mayor?"

"As long as ya mention that ya interviewed me right here in the city," Hancock answered. "That oughta piss him off some."

"Of course," said Piper with a chuckle. "Let's start with some basics. How long have you been running Goodneighbor?"

"Oh, 'bout ten years now. Me and my old crew, we snuffed the last mayor, an old mob boss named Vic."

Piper grimaced and asked, "Why's that?"

"He was a cruel and heartless prick. People were scared to leave their homes and drifters were murdered for his amusement or convenience. I wasn't gonna take that shit anymore, so I took it upon myself to overthrow his ass," Hancock explained. "He begged for mercy, that little bitch, right before I hung him from the balcony of the Old State House."

"Was it frightening, to take a risk like going after a mob boss?"

"A walk in the park," said Hancock with a smile, but Betty could see through his farce, though she'd never betray him. "There ain't a damn thing in the Commonwealth that scares me now."

Piper swallowed hard and asked, "And how are you able to control the town? It's famous for having no rules."

"Only got one rule and it's worked well for us so far. Play fuckin' nice. That's all I ask. It don't matter if you're human, synth, ghoul, super mutant, whatever the fuck you are, so long as it don't bother no one else, do whatever the hell your heart desires. Anyone breaks that rule they're fuckin' out, and if they don't leave fast enough, I'll snuff 'em myself and toss what's left out the door."

"What does a place like Goodneighbor offer the Commonwealth?"

"A home for those with nowhere to go if they can stomach it. Ain't gonna lie, it's a rough life, but it'll make ya a tough bastard. Regular trade, chems, guns, a great bar owned by yours truly, and I'm thinkin' 'bout adding a brothel..should bring in some extra caps. And of course, we got the Memory Den."

"Brothel?" Betty asked under her breath.

Hancock chuckled and replied, "Ain't set in stone, yet. Gotta talk to the girl 'bout it, see how she feels."

"Speaking of girls," said Piper, "There are some rumors that you're quite the lady's man, with women flocking to you, a ghoul, from all over the Commonwealth. Any truth to that?"

"Used to be I, uh, _entertained_ lots of dames, but no more."

"Oh? Someone finally catch your eye?"

He glanced at Betty, whose cheeks were flushed, and he answered, "There's this one gal who's been..tuggin' on the heartstrings lately. Beauty, brains, and guts. What more could a man or ghoul ask for? Nothin', that's what."

Piper and Nick stared at Betty, who's face was a bright shade of crimson as she sunk deeper into the couch as she tried her damndest not to grin like a fool. Hancock wrapped his arm around her shoulder with a hearty laugh and kissed her cheek. He couldn't wait to see more of the flattering shade, especially when he finally be able to show her some of the more..risque ideas he had in store for her.

"Anything you'd like to add, Mayor?" Piper asked, pulling him from the thought of Betty on her knees. Damn, he'd have to save _that_ image for later.

"Yeah, I got somethin'. Goodneighbor supports the new and improved Minutemen effort. They're doin' right by the Commonwealth, and that's somethin' I can really get behind, ya feel me? Come pay my town a visit and not only will ya be welcomed in with open arms, you'll have the time of your life and you'll see we ain't as bad as assholes like McDonough paint us to be."

"I might just do that myself," said Piper as she closed her notebook. "Never been."

Betty stood up and suggested, "Well, why not come along?"

Nick handed Nat his ashtray back and said, "You could come back with me when I leave in a few days."

"Few days, huh? Bet Irma wouldn't mind it," Hancock said, elbowing Nick in the ribs. He glanced at Piper and added, "If he ain't ready to leave, which he won't be, my bodyguard can bring ya back...might try to screw ya, though. You're definitely her type."

After the group bid their goodbyes to Piper's younger sister, they headed for Goodneighbor, to see what could be found within a dead mercenary's mind.

* * *

It was MacCready who caught the group at the gates of Goodneighbor as he headed out of town. He caught sight of Piper in her trench coat and came to a halt, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Still in town, I see.." Hancock said to MacCready. He looked behind the merc and asked, "Where's Fahrenheit at?"

"Who's that?" Piper asked Betty in a low voice.

"His beautiful and statuesque lesbian bodyguard," Betty answered.

Piper cocked her head and whispered, "Somehow, I'm not surprised that's who he'd choose."

The young merc rubbed the back of his head and said, "She's at the bar with Ham beating some idiot's head in. Tried to steal from the register when Charlie was in the back or something."

"I'm just gonna assume you haven't done me that favor I sent word about?" Hancock asked MacCready.

"...Well..." He glanced at Piper and back at Hancock with hopeful eyes.

"All right, you caught me on a good day. Ya have until tomorrow by dusk but if you're late, we're gonna find out how far I can shove the barrel of that sniper rifle up your ass, we clear?"

"Crystal," MacCready answered, holding back a smirk.

Hancock gave Piper a gentle push towards RJ and said, "Piper, this is RJ MacCready, _the_ best mercenary and sniper I've ever met-"

RJ lifted his chin with a cheeky smile and Betty snorted into Hancock's coat, failing miserably to fake a cough, though he pat her on the back regardless.

Nick rolled his eyes at the sight of all his friends. There were times he wondered why he kept them around, especially John, as obnoxious as he could be, but for a bunch of punks...they were all right. Sometimes, they even managed to pulled a smile or two out of the old synth. Betty seemed to be an excellent addition so far. The synth hoped she'd stick around after her ordeal was over, curious to see what would bloom between her and his closest friend. Meeting Betty probably bought John a few extra decades of breathing.

"-And the third best lookin' man in Goodneighbor," the ghoul concluded.

The group erupted with laughter save for MacCready, who asked, "Third? Who the heck is second?"

"Ham, obviously," said Betty, and Hancock nodded in agreement. She pointed to her ghoul and held up one finger with a smug nod.

MacCready turned to Piper and said, "Ham's another ghoul, not an actual ham, by the way."

"Gee, thaaaanks! How'd I ever get by in life without you?" asked Piper.

RJ put his hands on her shoulders and said, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that..but don't worry. I'm here now."

They shook hands, smiling at one another.

"Piper Wright, reporter for Publick Occurrences. That's a _newspaper,_ " she laughed. "You read it and learn about things, not that you would know."

"People still read?" the merc teased.

"Fuckin' hope so," said Hancock. "Introduce her 'round town, get her whatever interviews she wants. Anyone says no, slap 'em around a little."

"Will do," said MacCready. He glanced at Piper and explained, "When we meet Kleo, she's probably gonna ask you if you think she's a woman. Make sure to say yes or this-" he lifted his shirt and showed off a jagged laser burn across his chiseled stomach, "happens."

"Let's meet her first. Anyone that shoots someone like you is a friend in my book."

RJ led the reporter towards _Kill or Be Killed_?, his hand at her back.

Hancock nodded towards MacCready and Piper as soon as they were out of earshot and he said, "If that bit don't get him laid, I'm throwing his ass out of Goodneighbor."

He and Betty followed the detective to the Memory Den, and when Nick opened the doors, Betty let out a short gasp. She didn't expect to see such luxury inside, well, as luxurious as one could be in the wasteland. Rich, crimson velvet lined the cushions of all the chairs and couches in the room and in its center, a grand chaise lounge and on it was draped the most elegant woman Betty had ever seen in the new Commonwealth. Her feathered, red dress framed her face perfectly, and she now understood how two friends could be driven apart over a woman so beautiful.

"Well, well. Mister Valentine. I...thought you had forgotten about little 'ole me," said Irma. She sat up from the lounge and held out her hand to Nick. The synth hesitated at first, but gave Irma a warm smile and took her hand to kiss it.

"May have walked out of the Den, Irma, but I'd never walk out on you. Is Dr. Amari in? Need a favor for my client here."

"And here I thought you came to see me and no one else," said Irma. She sighed and studied the rings on her hands, baubles found in pre-war department stores that would've cost a fortune in Betty's time, but are now worthless and undesired by most.

"I could stay for a chat after," said Nick. "It'd be nice to catch up."

"That would be just fine." She leaned back into the chaise lounge and blew the synth a kiss. "Amari's downstairs, you big flirt."

Betty watched as the detective tipped his hat towards his old flame and beckoned the others to follow. Hancock and Irma exchanged a respectful nod between them as he walked past, her eyes fixed on Betty. After what happened with Nicky, the ghoul made sure that all interactions with Irma were nothing but business. _Hello, Here's your cut of the profits, Thanks,_ was the extent of their conversations for the past few years, and he didn't mind keeping it that way.

"It seems we have a guest in our midst," Irma said with a kind smile. "So much lovelier than the usual folk who drop in."

"Consider her a local. This is Betty Parker, my new partner and General of the Minutemen. Been travelin' with her close to a month now," Hancock explained, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

"Ah, that would explain your absence, then." She turned to Betty and said, "It is an honor, General. We've all heard the stories on the radio. Thank you for all you've done so far to help."

"Pleasure is mine," Betty said with a smile. "This is home for me, too. I don't mind helping with the upkeep."

Hancock squeezed her shoulder and led Betty down the stairs to the basement with a wave to the Den's proprietor. Two strange pods sat in the middle of the room, memory loungers, her partner called them. An older woman wearing a lab coat, her dark hair held up in a messy topknot, typed furiously into a terminal.

"Dr. Amari?" said Nick, hoping he wouldn't startle her.

The doctor turned and said, "Yes?" She smiled at Hancock and Betty before she asked, "I take it this isn't a social call of some sort?"

"This one's all yours, Nicky," said Hancock as he flopped onto a couch.

Valentine nodded and explained, "Amari, we need a memory dig but it's not gonna be easy. The perp, Kellogg, is already cold on the floor after being confronted by these two-" he jabbed a metal thumb towards Betty and Hancock.

"-That was all Birdie," said the ghoul. "I had nothin' to do with it."

Betty crossed her arms and said to her partner, "You _literally_ gave me the gun I killed him with."

"Thought you could use a hand."

She smiled and said, "I don't think I ever thanked you for that."

"Don't have to."

Amari stared at the three friends with wide eyes and asked, "Are you all mad?" She pointed her finger at Hancock, who was about to speak up and snapped, "Do not get fresh with me, Mayor. Putting aside that you're all asking me to defile a corpse, you do realize that the memory simulators require intact, LIVING brains to function?"

"Please," Betty asked her, taking her hand. "John and Nick both said you're the only one who could make this work."

Nick put a hand on Betty's shoulder and explained, "You see, this dead brain had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari. The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth. You need this...and so does Betty here. They kidnapped her only son."

The doctor sighed as she rubbed her temples and said, "Fine. I'll take a look, but no guarantees. Do you...have it with you?"

Betty searched through the pockets on her knapsack until she found her "souvenir" as Hancock had dubbed it. She held out the cybernetic to Amari, who looked over it with some mild surprise.

"What's this? This isn't a brain! This is...wait...that's the hippocampus! And this thing attached to it..a neural interface?"

Even Nick hovered over Amari's shoulder to examine the piece himself. "Those circuits look awfully familiar..."

"I'm not surprised. From what I've seen, all Institute technology has a similar architecture," said Dr. Amari. She turned to Betty and explained, "Mister Valentine is an older generation synth, as you may know. But Institute technology being what it is...the brain implant could-"

"-Fit me," said Nick.

Amari nodded and continued, "But that's...an incredible risk to take. We're talking about wiring something to his brain."

"No way, there...there has to be somethin' else," said Betty. Even Hancock got up from the couch to protest, but Nick help up a hand to silence them both.

"Don't worry about me. I'm well past the warranty date, anyway."

Betty hugged Nick and breathed, "Thank you so much for doing this."

The synth pat her back gently and said, "You can thank me when we've found your son. Amari, let's do this."

Amari rushed to the simulator controls, typing away, until the memory lounger hummed to life. "Whenever you're ready, Mister Valentine, please take a seat."

The synth tossed Hancock his hat and coat before he sat in the chair Amari motioned to, leaning back into the rich leather of the seat. At least the Institute had been kind enough to give him neural sensors and he passed his non-metal hand over the fabric several times before he closed his eyes.

"Don't be doin' that shit already," said Hancock to Nick. "Amari hasn't even started yet."

"Do what?"

"You always feel up on soft things before ya head into the fire. Nothin's gonna happen, how many times I gotta say say that shit?" said Hancock.

"...You're right. Don't make me regret saying that." Valentine looked around the room before he joked, "If I start cackling like an old, grizzled mercenary, pull me out, okay?"

Hancock chuckled and spun Nick's hat on his fingertip, but Betty felt sick to her stomach. The ghoul nudged her with his boot and when she turned, he blew her a kiss with a short laugh. She rolled her eyes but appreciated his token of affection all the same.

Amari rested one hand on Nick's shoulder as she fiddled with the plates on the back of his head. "Let's see here," she murmured, removing one of the plates and setting it on a small table. "I need you to keep talking to me, Mister Valentine. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire."

A bright spark appeared for a moment and Betty gasped, bringing Hancock to his feet with a grim face.

The doctor paused and asked Nick, "Are you...feeling any different?"

"There's a lot of...flashes...static...I can't make any sense of it, Doc," Nick answered.

She frowned and said, "That's what I was afraid of..The mnemonic impressions are encoded."

"Oh no, not again!" mocked the ghoul before he popped a few mentats into his open mouth.

"You don't even know what that means," said Betty, snatching the tin from his hands. "And I'd prefer if you didn't get high while your best friend is having brain surgery less than five feet away from you."

He laughed and replied, "Yeah, like _you_ know what the fuck she's talkin' about. You were a lawyer and now a general, not some damn egghead..no offense, Amari."

"Enough!" Nick barked.

Hancock threw Nick's hat at Betty's backside and whispered, "Tryin' to get me in trouble and shit."

"Go to hell!" she whispered hotly as she threw Nick's hat back at him, holding back a smile.

"Been there once or twice. It's fuckin' boring and all the dames are old and ugly."

"Serves you right."

Betty was grateful for Hancock's distractions. If not for him, she'd be heaving her guts into the trashcan right about then. It was hard to look at Nick with pieces of him missing; a perfect stranger willing to risk his life and mental well-being to help her. He's likely to have done crazier things than this to help others. She didn't know how she came to be so lucky, to find people like Hancock and Nick in a world filled with hate and bloodshed on an everyday scale.

"It appears the Institute has one last failsafe. There's a lock on the memories of the implant," Doctor Amari explained.

Betty wrung her hands and asked, "Is Nick going to be okay?"

"Yes, the connections appear to be stable. Hopefully, it'll be as simple as unplugging the implant once we're done. But that doesn't get around the current problem. The memory encryption is too strong for a single mind, but...what if we used two?"

"Where do I sit?" Betty asked. "And what's going to happen?"

Amari pointed to the lounger beside Nick and Betty took a seat, her hands shaking. Hancock wandered over from the couch and leaned against the open pod door.

"Done this a million times. Don't sweat it," he whispered with a tug on her ponytail.

"I'm going to run your cognitive functions in parallel with Mister Valentine's. He'll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find," explained the doctor.

Betty nodded and said, "I'm ready when you are."

"Very well. Let's get started and...keep your fingers crossed."

Nick glanced over at Betty, his yellow eyes blinking several times before he said, "See you on the other side."

Betty panicked as the pod door began to close, but Hancock appeared next to the screen from behind the glass as it flickered on and rested his palm on the window.

"You trust me, right?" Hancock asked, bending down so she could hear him

"Don't have a choice in the matter, so yes," Betty said, trying to laugh.

The ghoul chuckled and winked before the door closed. "That's my girl."

Every day, Betty discovered something new or surprising about the world around her. Yesterday it was that raiders used mole rats as suicide bombers on occasion. Today, it was rooting around in the mind of a dead, psychopathic mercenary. What was next? John becomes a priest and swears off sex, chems, and booze? God...she hoped not. Thankfully, aliens invading were more likely.

"Initiating brain-wave migration between the transplant and the host," Doctor Amari announced, her voice coming from a speaker inside the lounger.

Betty choked back a lump of panic and reached for her partner through the glass. And there he was, palm pressed against the window. She knew he'd never let her down, and she breathed in as deep as she could.

Hancock held up a finger and reached for something just out of her sight. A pen, she discovered, when the ghoul came back into view. He scribbled something directly onto his palm, chuckling to himself a few times, before he pressed his hand against the glass. A crude drawing of two stick figures: one with enormous breasts bending over and the other, with a huge erection no less, standing behind her. The word, " _Later_?" finished off his lewd sketch.

His handwriting was beautiful, and not at all what Betty expected from _this_ John Hancock. The stick figures with the giant dick and tits, though? That she did expect. Still, she couldn't hold back her laughter and it brought a smile to Hancock's face.

"Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant! It's degenerated but it's there!" Amari shouted.

"Plain English for us common folk, doc," said Hancock, his voice coming through the speaker as well.

"It means it's working, mayor."

"Oh. Good, good!"

"Betty I'm going to load you into the strongest memories we can find-"

"-I wanna give her a load.." Hancock said under his breath.

"..She can hear you if you're standing right there, sir."

"No shit?" asked Hancock and his voice became louder as he added, "Betty! I said I wanted to give you a load! You didn't answer about later, so I'm thinkin' yes? Can't wait!"

 _Oh lord,_ Betty thought with a laugh, _What the hell am I getting into with him._

"She's not hard of hearing-damn it, give that back!" Betty heard a scuffle for a moment, a hint of the ghoul's laughter, and Amari saying, "Please, mayor! Just sit down! Betty, I'm going to _put_ you into the strongest memories I can find. They might not be...stable...just hold on!"

A bright flash of white burst from the screen in front of her, and Betty winced.

* * *

The absence of any pain gave Betty the courage to open one eye, at least. The brightness had dimmed to gray blue and she let out a sharp breath as it darkened to black.

Long, hap-hazard strands jutted out all around her and she heard Doctor Amari echo all around her, "Can you hear me?"

Betty lifted her hand, at least she thought she did, and hoped the action matched in the real world as well.

"Ah, good. The simulation appears to be working, although the memories are quite fragmentary. I'll try to step you through the intact memories, and hope we find one that gives us some clue to the Institute's location."

Betty looked around, wondering where she could take a step or not. She tried to move, but couldn't go more than a foot in any direction.

"..There," said Amari. "This is the earliest intact memory I can find."

A spiky path appeared and Betty moved ahead, silent. Soft lights blinked beneath the path, leading the way to part of building, hovering in weightless space. She stopped midway to stare at the memory, a bit stunned that she was having such an experience.

"Damn," she heard Hancock say. "That's some sci-fi shit right there."

Betty took comfort knowing they could see what she did. No need to go through this alone. She wasn't sure if Nick could see anything all.

"Just remember that you are experiencing these memories as Kellogg," Amari explained. "This may prove disorienting at first."

Amari's voice faded away and the path led Betty up to the building, a bedroom in someone's home. A young boy sat on the antique bed, its sheets moth-eaten and worn, and a middle-aged woman sat beside him, reading a book. The radio played a bit of news about the New California Republic, whatever the hell that was, and her heart raced. Would she have to witness Kellogg break through that door and shoot that woman? Beat her to death?

A voice shouted out from within the memory, _Turn down that god damn radio! I'm trying to sleep!_

The woman shook her head, ignoring the mystery man's shouting. _Hmph. What a joke._

 _What's it mean, mom?_ the boy asked.

 _Nothing Connie, People like to talk and hope someone else is going to keep them safe,_ said the mother.

The young boy lowered his head and looked through the few torn comics he had. _Teacher at school said the NCR would bring back the good old days..like before the big war._

 _Don't you listen to that twaddle. I'm going to stop sending you if that's what they're teaching you._

 _I'm goin' out...where the fuck are my boots?!_ shouted the man behind the door.

 _Listen to me Connie,_ said the woman as she handed the boy a gun. _You take this. You're old enough. You're the man of the family now. It's your job to protect us. You're father's useless. But you won't turn out like him. You're a good boy. And all that on the radio, all useless talk. The only thing that will protect you in this world is that gun in your hands. You need to learn to use if you're going to survive._

The boy pointed the pistol to where Betty stood and when she stared down the barrel, her blood ran cold. Kellogg's face, though decades younger, was still haunting.

 _I will, mom. I promise. I won't let you down._

 _You've always been my good boy._

"This doesn't seem to be what we're looking for," Amari's voice echoed. The memory began to fade to gray and another spiky path appeared. "There appears to be another intact memory close to you in temporal sequence...there."

The next memory was similar as it contained part of a room, where Kellogg, who looked about twenty, stood with a young woman. They discussed a group Kellogg had joined, that the woman believed they were more trouble then they were worth. A crib stood beside the table and Betty moved to look down at the bright-eyed baby girl with a smile. Kellogg insisted that in a few years, he'd have his own crew and there'd be nothing more to worry over. He just needed some connections.

Kellogg had a family of his own. How could he brutalize her own so easily? He was kind toward the woman, smiling at her, reassuring her that she's a great mother to their child. Where did it all go wrong?

Kellogg held out his gun and said, _See this? This is what's going to keep you and Mary safe. I promise._

The baby cried and Kellogg moved to check on her, holding out a hand to his spouse. _That's okay, I got her._

"Let's keep looking. I'll connect you to the next intact memory," said Amari's voice.

Another path appeared and a long, underground hall manifested around Betty. Kellogg stood fully armored in front of her.

 _How did you think this was going to end, Kellogg?_ A voice within the memory echoed. _You thought you could just fuck with us, and we wouldn't fuck with you? Just so you know...they died like dogs. And you weren't there to help them._

At the end of the hallway, Kellogg kicked open a metal door and behind to unless a stream of bullets from his assault rifle with a scream. Someone murdered his family, the daughter included..no wonder he was such a monster. Betty moved around and studied Kellogg's face. His hatred, anger, despair, all painted onto his face. She wanted to feel pity but the feeling was short lived. He certainly didn't deserve what happened to his loved ones, but anything that came afterward was fair game.

"I've found another memory to try. I'll connect you."

A jagged path led Betty to a bar, where two wastelanders asked Kellogg if they could sit at his table. He motioned for them to sit and they hired him to murder a family that lived down the creek. He took the contract with such ease that all guilt or pity Betty felt for him so far washed away in an instant. He had taken things from her as well, but she didn't turn into some vicious hitman as Kellogg had. She was glad to kill him, more and more as each day passed.

"Well, we seem to be getting closer. Try this one."

The next memory brought Betty to a screeching halt. A stern woman sat at a table, Kellogg standing before her. Three synths stood guard around the pair, all pointing their weapons at Kellogg. Maybe this was it.

 _Mr. Kellogg. I'm glad you've decided to meet with me_ , she said.

 _So_. _You're from the Institute...I wanted to see for myself if you really existed_ , he said.

The woman held out her hands and replied, _We do, as you can see._

 _What do you want?_

 _It's come to my attention that you've been rather...disruptive of our operations lately. This must stop._

The mercenary shrugged his shoulders and said, _I do what people pay me to do. If that's a problem for you, I can only see one way out._

 _And what's that Mr. Kellogg?_

 _If I'm workin' for you, there's no more problem. From what I hear, you can afford me._

His voice made Betty sick. She couldn't wait to show the Institute the same amount of mercy she showed Kellogg.

 _I don't think you're fully understanding the situation you're in._

 _I think I do._

 _Very well,_ said the woman. _B7-48, initiate.._

The synths moved to attack Kellogg but the mercenary was quick and brutal, slaughtering them all in less than a minute.

 _Impressive,_ said the Institute woman. _We may have something to talk about after all._

"We're running out of brain here," said Amari. "Ah, there's one that looks mostly intact. Connecting now," said Doctor Amari.

Betty's blood ran cold at the sight of the next memory. Kellogg and who she realized now were two Institute scientists, stood in the cryo room of Vault 111.

"Oh, no," Hancock said in a low voice.

 _Manual Override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended,_ announced a vault computer.

An Institute scientist worked on a terminal at the front of the hall, tapping loudly on the keys. _Vault_ _computers are still working. That's good...checking through the logs. Hopefully it's all-_

 _-Just..find it,_ Kellogg said.

 _Pod C6. Down the hall, near the end_ , said the scientist.

Kellogg and the second scientist walked deeper down the hall, and the mercenary pulled his .44 magnum from his holster. Betty didn't move at first until they came to a stop at Nate's cryo pod, afraid to face it all again. But she wanted to see it again, to remind herself of how desperate and angry she felt and realized why Hancock relived his own horrors. What happened in the vault was the worst pain she'd ever felt and now, everything else paled in comparison. Betty rushed over until she was right beside the mercenary, his face hard. It gave her a sick satisfaction to know he was dead by her hand now, and could never do harm again.

 _This is the one, here,_ said the scientist with a hand on Nate's pod.

Kellogg nodded and said, _Open it_.

Nate coughed hard, disoriented as the pod door opened. He held baby Shaun tight in his arms as his eyes tried to focus on the figures standing before him, his wary eyes falling on the mercenary. Shaun's cry pierced the gentle hum of machinery in the room and Betty refused to look away, no matter how much she wanted to.

 _Is it over? Are we okay?_ Nate asked.

 _Almost,_ said Kellogg. _Everything's going to be fine._

That fucking liar..

The scientist reached for Shaun and tried to pull him from Nate's arms. _Come on, baby..come here._

 _No, wait,_ Nate protested. _No, I've got him!_

Kellogg drew his pistol. _Let the boy go. I'm only gonna tell you once!_

Nate struggled with the scientist, weak from being frozen and shouted, _I'M NOT GIVING YOU SHAUN!_

The gunshot was deafening and Betty tried to scream but not a sound came from her throat. Nate's head hung over, the wound fresh and bloody at his temple. Betty wanted nothing more at that moment than to kill Kellogg all over again.

 _God damn it! Get the kid out of here and let's go!_

The mercenary looked into Betty's pod and she stared at herself weakly banging her fist against the glass of the cryo pod.

 _At least we still have the backup.._

 _Cryogenic sequence reinitialized._

"I'm...I'm sorry you had to go through that again," she heard Hancock say.

"..As am I," said Amari. "The next intact memory is just past there. Whenever you're ready."

Betty believed the worst had passed and was ready for the next memory. She wanted to get the hell out of the lounger as soon as possible. She didn't know how much more she could take. In the distance, she could see Kellogg polishing his .44 inside his home. And there, playing on the floor beside the mercenary, was Shaun. Betty went to the boy as quickly as she could and peered into his face, a perfect combination of hers and Nate's features. Though she lost ten years with Shaun, she could make up for it some how. There was still a chance for happiness with her son.

"You made a handsome boy there, Birdie," Hancock's voice echoed. "Can't wait to meet him."

The mercenary pointed his gun at the door. A man wearing a dark suit of leather armor and sunglasses walked in, tall and imposing. Another Institute agent, for sure..but he was no scientist. He seemed too much like Kellogg to have any substance besides murder in his heart.

 _Kellogg,_ said the agent.

 _It's okay,_ Kellogg said to Shaun and her blood boiled. He stole her son away and helped raise him for those assholes while she lay frozen in the vault. He looked back at the man and said, _One of these days you're going to get your head blown off, just barging in here like that._

 _Minimizing my exposure to civilians is a priority._

Kellogg looked away with a scoff and said, _Forget I said anything. So what's the big crisis this time?_

 _New orders for you. One of our scientists has left the Institute,_ said the agent.

 _Left as in..?_

 _He's gone rogue. Name's Doctor Brian Virgil. We know he's hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea. Here's his file._ The Institute agent handed the information to Kellogg and the merc leafed through its contents.

 _Wow. Some heads are going to roll for this. Capture and return or just...elimination?_

 _Elimination,_ said the agent. _He was working on a highly classified program._

 _No kidding. One of the top Bioscience boys?_ Kellogg glanced at Shaun and said in a low voice, _So...I guess you're taking the kid back with you._

The Institute agent nodded once and said, _Affirmative. Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil._

Shaun sat up straight as an arrow and asked, _You're taking me home to my father?_

 _Yes_ , said the agent in a flat voice. _Stand next to me and hold still._

 _Okay,_ said Shaun, and Betty watched her son follow his command without protest.

 _X6-88, ready to Relay with Shaun_ , the agent announced.

 _Bye Mr. Kellogg! I hope I'll see you again sometime!_ Shaun said in a bright voice.

 _The Institute agent and Shaun erupted in a blinding flash of blue and white and when her vision returned, the room stood empty except for Kellogg_.

The mercenary looked away from the now empty space where Shaun stood and whispered, _Bye kid._

Amari sighed and said, "Teleportation. Now it all makes sense. Nobody's found the entrance to the Institute-"

"-Because there _is_ no entrance. Clever fuckers," Hancock said.

"There's one last memory but it's not complete," said Amari.

"Punch it," said the ghoul. "Might learn somethin' else about those bastards."

"Connecting to the final memory. Betty this is only a partial one; it may be jarring. Get ready."

A light flashed and Kellogg lay on the floor, and Betty saw herself straddling him, fighting against the mercenary. There were no synths or Hancock battling them as Betty struggled against Kellogg, only her and the mercenary, who had her in a death grip.

 _Why didn't you take my offer,_ he rasped. _Why do you have to be so damn unshakable?_

 _You ruined my life,_ Betty heard herself say. _I won't let you ruin anyone else's!_

Hancock's magnum slid into view beside Kellogg's head and she heard his voice shout, _It has his bullets!_

Betty watched as she slammed her elbow into Kellogg's face several times. Her hair matted to her face, mixed with hers and Kellogg's blood and she gasped for breath as his hands dropped. She watched herself reach for the pistol and there was a hint of a smile on her face when she pressed it to his head.

The memory was ripped away with a loud click and another flash of blinding light before Betty found herself inside the memory simulator, the machines outside of the pod beeping wildly.

"Get her out already!" Hancock yelled.

The pod whooshed open and Betty clambered out, nearly throwing herself at the ghoul when she laid eyes on him.

Betty whispered, "I know why you relive that day now, I know. Please, don't do it anymore...you deserve better. _We_ deserve better."

Hancock's hold on her tightened and he answered, "I won't. Done with it."

Betty swayed on her feet for a moment, dizzy, and her partner held her steady. He brushed away the hair matted to her neck when she caught glimpse of the drawing on his hand and laughed weakly.

"Slow movements, okay? I don't know what kind of side effects the procedure might have had. No one's ever...done this before," Amari said in wonderment.

The ghoul held Betty's face and he swallowed hard with a smile. "That was fuckin' wild. You are out of this world, god _damn_."

Betty laughed. The way Hancock talked about her sometimes was as if she walked straight out of the pages of a comic book. Hell, after what she just witnessed, he might be on to something.

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"I was dizzy but I'm all right now," said Betty. "Thank you for everything."

"Good, but I want you to keep monitoring yourself. Mayor, your uncanny eye for detail should help here. We have to be sure there's no long term damage. Are you..ready to talk about what happened in there?"

"There's more than one person who knows about the Institute, Virgil, that scientist that escaped..." said Betty.

"I didn't know Institute scientists could defect. This changes everything. He could answer all sorts of questions. The memory said he was in the Glowing Sea but..that can't be right. No one would risk going there, even to hide."

"Even I've only been there once, and I didn't get far before I had to turn back," Hancock said.

Betty grimaced and asked, "Why? What makes this Glowing Sea so dangerous?"

"Radiation. So much that nothing there could possibly live. Nothing...pleasant..." Amari replied. "That's why it doesn't make sense that Virgil would flee into that hell. The exposure alone...you would need some sort of protection. Power armor would be best, and would also provide protection against the Glowing Sea's residents."

"We'll make it," said Betty. "We've gotten this far."

Amari shook Betty's hand and said, "Good luck..and be safe."

* * *

Betty and Hancock found Nick sitting near the entrance, Irma laughing at something he said as she perched on the arm of the couch, legs crossed.

Nick's eyes fell on Betty as he stood up and his hand was like lightning before it coiled around Betty's throat and lifted her off her feet. When Valentine spoke, it was the voice of a mercenary that came out instead.

"Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head. Heh, I was right...should've killed you when you were still on ice."

Hancock aimed his .44 at Nick's face and snarled, "I knew I should've cut out your fuckin' tongue! Let her go, NOW!"

"You wouldn't kill your own best friend, would ya?" the synth sneered.

"I'd wage war..set the fuckin' Commonwealth aflame, so don't FUCK with me!"

Kellogg's voice laughed and said, "You wouldn't have the balls to. You're nothing but a coward..John McDonough."

Ignoring Kellogg's voice, Hancock dropped the pistol and kicked Nick's legs out from beneath him, sending he and Betty to the carpet. The ghoul pried at Nick's fingers around his partner's neck as she gripped the front of Hancock's shirt, trying to take a breath. Tears fell from the corners of her eyes and a blood vessel popped as she kicked out. Irma threw her arms around Nick's throat and sobbed, begging him to stop.

"You're going to watch me squeeze the life out of the only woman you've ever-"

It wasn't how he wanted Betty to hear it, to hear that he loves her during such a monstrous act, and it sent the ghoul into a feral rage he hadn't felt in decades.

-Hancock slammed his fist several times into the synth's head, not bothering to stop even when Nick's jaw came unhinged and cut across his hand. He would kill him, gladly murder a friend, a better brother than Patrick ever was, to save Betty.

"Nicky, don't make me do this!" Hancock shouted. "GOD DAMN IT NICK, COME BACK! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T!"

Betty's hands fell away from his shirt and Hancock reached for his pistol again, hammer cocked and ready to shoot Nick point blank in the face when the synth blinked. He tore his hands away from Betty's throat and stared at the angry, red hand prints he left behind.

Hancock kicked Valentine away, sending him back against the edge of the couch before he shook Betty's shoulders, her head flopping to the side in a grotesque manner.

"No, no, don't you fuckin' die on me now!" Hancock shouted. "I won't let ya, god damn it! Don't do this to me!"

"John!" said Nick as he reached out for his friend, his voice returning to normal and Hancock pulled the pistol on the synth.

"Don't you fucking touch her," the ghoul seethed. "I hesitated to blow your god damn face off, I won't think twice about it now!"

Irma grabbed Nick's arm and said, "Go get Amari, hurry! I'll stay with them. Go!"

The synth nodded and ran for the stairs.

Hancock placed his ear against Betty's chest and listened for a heartbeat. It was weak, but she was alive. Hancock rubbed her throat, hoping it would loosen her airway enough for her to take a breath and whispered, "Jesus...you win okay, Birdie? You're scarin' the shit outta me, now quit fuckin' around and wake up!"

Doctor Amari rushed over as medical supplies fell from her hands. She took several of the stimpaks and began to inject all of them into an artery in Betty's neck. She gasped weakly, but some of the color returned to her face and Hancock clutched her to his chest with a sigh. That was way too close.

Fahrenheit walked in, unaware of the clusterfuck going on, with MacCready and Piper in tow. They looked upon the scene, stunned and disturbed, unable to move until she shouted, "What the fucking hell is going on?"

"Fahrenheit! Lock him away!" Hancock ordered as he pointed to Nick. "Still might kill him!"

 _Kill him?_ Betty thought. Kill who? She couldn't focus much on any particular sentence; too much noise going on around her. She remembered Kellogg saying something to her, but that merc was long dead now. She was the one who pulled the trigger multiple times. It was all such a mess, she wished Hancock would tell everyone to shut the hell up.

RJ pulled Piper aside and gave her his rifle before he joined Fahrenheit in cornering the synth. As one, MacCready twisted Nick's arms behind his back as Fahrenheit grabbed the front of his shirt to ram the barrel of her own .44 into his torn face.

"It wasn't Nick! Stop this!" Irma begged.

"Get the fuck out of my way," said Fahrenheit over her shoulder as she and MacCready shoved Nick out of the Den.

* * *

After so much screaming and chaos in the span of minutes, the room became eerily silent. Hancock scooped Betty off the floor and Piper followed them out the door and into town, MacCready's sniper rifle awkwardly banging into the backs of her knees as she walked.

"Please," asked Piper, "What can I do?"

"Stay outta the way," he growled. "And keep your mouth shut about this."

"Cut that out," Betty groaned as she stirred in his arms. "She just wants to help."

"Quiet you," he said under his breath. "Your throat's hurt bad."

"Don't tell me how to live my life," Betty said and she tried to laugh, but could only manage a grin instead.

Piper opened the door to the Old State House and grunted his thanks before he headed to his bedroom.

At the top of the stairs, two guards rushed to open the door to the room as Hancock barreled past them. One guard pulled the sheets back and Hancock lay Betty down on the bed. He ripped the sheets from the guard's hands, draping them over his girl with care, before he grabbed the guard's tie and dragged him out of the room.

"Anyone tries to come in, save for Fahrenheit, shoot them in the fuckin' face," said Hancock. He pat the guard's face roughly before he closed the doors and leaned against them with a heavy sigh.

Betty sat up on her elbow and rubbed her throat. "I can't believe I'm saying this...but maybe you should have a drink."

"Don't like to get fucked up when I'm pissed. Not good to associate the two. I'd rather just snuff somebody," he said with a hint of a snarl.

" _I'd_ rather you stay here with me than go off on some murderous rampage if that's all right."

Hancock's face softened. "Fine by me."

The ghoul pulled off his drifter's coat and tossed it over an armchair, switching his captain's hat for his infamous tricorn instead.

"Regal," said Betty with a smirk. "Now that I think about it, maybe you should keep it on...come over here."

He walked over to the bed as she pulled the sheets aside and sat down beside her, resting a hand on her leg.

"We're more than friends, aren't we?" she asked without pause.

"Is it that obvious? But come on, you don't wanna wake up to this mug every morning. Never wished that on anyone I cared for."

"I already do that," she said. "The best part of my day is waking up and seeing you're still there."

"Wouldn't expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me, doesn't it?" he said. "Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull...because no one like me should be this lucky."

Betty pulled off his hat and kissed Hancock hard as he returned her affection with fervor of his own.

"Right now," she breathed into his ear.

She undid the buttons on her pants and began to scoot out of them, getting them down to her knees when he placed his hand over hers.

"Did you forget you damn near took a dirt nap back there? If I take you right now, I'd probably break you in half. 'Course..there's other acts I'd like to sample." He kissed her again, and his fingers reached between her thighs to graze over the thin fabric of her panties. Betty groaned into his neck; if Hancock were a weaker man, he would have torn them off right then. "And I'm starving to death."

"I've..never had anyone do-"

-Hancock glanced at the ceiling as he clasped his hands together and mouthed _'Thank_ _you'._

Betty chuckled and said, "You really want to do this for me, don't you?"

"You have no fuckin' idea," he murmured, "And after what you just said, more than ever."

Betty looked away, her cheeks burning at the thought of Hancock's offer. When she glanced back at him, he arched his brow and she nodded. The ghoul moved towards the edge of the bed and grabbed Betty's ankles, pulling her forward. He rest her thighs on either side of his head and she reached down to cover herself.

"No need to be shy," said Hancock, and he moved her hands to the back of his head. "I promise..you'll love every second of it."

He spread her apart with his fingers, and bit down hard on his lip at the sight of her pink flesh. Just the thought of tasting her made the strain against the fabric of his pants throb and he couldn't wait another second.

His tongue was hot against her most sensitive spot, and she threw her head back against the pillow with a gasp as he squeezed her thighs. The thought of going all this time without ever feeling so vulnerable and turned on all at once almost sent Betty to the verge of tears.

Hancock made good on his promise, and slid a finger inside of her, taking a moment to watch it disappear and reappear slicker than before. He added another, Betty whimpering at the sudden fullness and she cried out when she felt his mouth on her again.

He groaned against her flesh as her muscles began to tighten around his fingers. She was close to the brink and Hancock would make damn sure that she belonged to him. He exposed more of her sensitive bud and continued to stroke it with his tongue, slow and steady.

Betty twisted the sheets in her hand and moaned, "Please..please don't stop."

Hancock never thought he'd hear his girl beg but there she was, writhing as he worked her with his mouth, pleading for him to make her come. It was absolute heaven and if she were ever the death of him, all of it would be worth it.

Betty's relief came at last with a gasp of surprise as the sensation tore through her body. She shuddered as Hancock lapped at her gently for a few more seconds before he rested his head on her thigh, very much pleased with himself.

"You and me together...this is my kinda freakshow," he said to her.

"Mine too." Betty's head fell back with a wide smile and she whispered, "What the fuck just happened?"

The ghoul reached up for her hand and kissed it. "Told ya you'd love it."

"I can't believe I went so long without ever feeling that."

"Never gotta worry about that again." Hancock sat up and pulled the sheets over Betty's bare legs with a smug grin. "All you gotta do is ask, love. Don't matter where or when. Always hungry."

"What about you?" she asked as she pointed to the tent in his pants. "I can't leave you like this, it's cruel."

"Oh, don't worry..I'll get mine tomorrow, so rest up." He stood up and cupped her face before he kissed her. He took her hand, wrapped it around his hardened length, and her eyes widened. "Somethin' to think about."

The ghoul kissed his girl once more before he rose to his feet, stretching his arms above his head. He perched his tricorn hat on his head and said, "Gonna go deal with Nicky, decide if I should use his head as a paperweight or not. Maybe grab a beer."

"Please don't. I don't think he meant it."

Hancock nodded and asked, "Need anything before I head out?"

"You've done more than enough for me today, thank you, handsome."

The ghoul smiled at the sincerity in her words and said, "Welcome, love. If ya need me, holler for one of the guards; someone will find my ass. There's a gun under the pillow, though, just in case."

"Pretty sure I'm sitting in one of the safest spots in the Commonwealth."

"That you are."

Hancock stood at the door and watched Betty settle beneath the sheets. Even now, she didn't seem all that fragile. She was tough, no matter what was thrown at her. Perfection incarnate, in his eyes, anyhow. He threw open the doors and the guards clapped and whistled as the ghoul held up his hands with a smirk, to Betty's chagrin.


	16. Land of 1000 Dances

**Hola friends! Sorry if I took a little longer than usual this week. Work has been pretty hectic. Thank you so, so much for the continued reviews, favorites, and follows! They always make me smile. Fair amount of smut at the end, so if that's not your thing, it starts after Hancock and Betty leave the bar. Enjoy!**

* * *

Hancock wasn't sure who he'd face at the bottom of the stairwell in the Old State House, where Nick Valentine sat locked in the lone jail cell. It had been at least five or six years by now that the cell was used for anything other than a drunk tank of sorts. Would it be his oldest friend waiting for him or the mercenary? Regardless, this meeting would be heavy. He brought a Jet inhaler to his lips on the way down and before the chem's effects hit, he pulled on his red frock coat.

Valentine sat in the furthest corner of the cell, shackled to the brick wall by his wrists. Several guards, all carrying powerful assault rifles, stood watch around the synth until Hancock waved them off.

"John," said Valentine without lifting his head. "Here to kill me?"

"Haven't made that decision just yet," said Hancock and he took a seat on an overturned bucket. Pulling out his .44 and resting it on his knee, he leaned against the cold brick wall with a hard face, and said, "Got half a mind to. You almost killed Birdie, but she asked me not to kill _you_...fuckin' angelic thing that she is. Thinks ya didn't mean it, which is why you're still talkin'. So, care to explain what in the everlovin' fuck happened back there?"

"Amari said there might've been some 'mnemonic impressions' left over," Nick said in a low voice.

"Do I look like a fuckin' scientist?" asked the ghoul. "The hell does that even mean?"

Nick almost laughed but managed to catch himself before he could. He'd known John long enough to know antagonizing him when he was upset was akin to poking a wounded deathclaw. "Kinda like fingerprints...bits and pieces left behind."

"Is it gonna happen again? Can't risk you losin' your shit like that every time you see Betty or anyone else," said Hancock, rubbing his temple with the end of the .44's barrel. "Too great a risk even I won't take."

Nick shook his head and replied, "Amari did some sorta local wipe when she came to fix my jaw. Don't remember anything from the couple of days now, but it's better than the..alternative plan you had in store for me."

"...You know, I've been giving Betty so much shit for hesitatin' before she shoots, and I go and fuckin' do it. Woulda snuffed ya without question, if I weren't so worried over her. Fuckin' christ, I thought she was dead."

"Kinda glad you did," said the synth. "I'm sorry Kellogg made me strangle your sweetheart. Glad to hear she's already talkin', if she asked you to spare me."

"S'alright...ain't fully sorry for tryin' to kill ya, I mean, you _did_ put your hands on Birdie and I won't stand for that kinda shit. But, sorry for bein' a crazy asshole after you came to. I know ya didn't mean it now."

"I haven't seen you like that in a very long time. Fright isn't a good look for a bastard who's already ugly as sin."

"Fuck you, Nicky, you're a talkin' refrigerator...talk 'bout ugly. I wouldn't stick my dick in that and I've stuck my dick in some weird shit," said Hancock with a laugh.

"Please," said Nick as he covered his eyes. "Spare me the details of your chem-induced liaisons."

Hancock chuckled again and whistled for the guards. "Let him out. The detective lives another day."

One of the guards unlocked the cell and Nick walked out as they gave him a wide berth. The ghoul smiled up at him and held out his fist, and Nick tapped against it with his metal knuckles.

"Is it all right if I head up to see Betty? I'd like to apologize in person for what happened..unless she wouldn't want to see me," Nick asked. "I'd understand."

"Might be asleep since I gave her some action, but go for it," said Hancock. "I'm gonna grab a beer real quick, let the others know Birdie's all right. Come by after you're done visitin'."

The ghoul made it as far as the bottom of the stairwell when Nick called out, "She's good for you, you know. And you for her."

"I think I might've hit ya too hard, because we all know I ain't any good for her. It's me who's lucky. Dunno where the fuck it came from but I ain't gonna complain," said Hancock.

"Look, you might be an pompous jackass sometimes, but you're not dense by any means. Do you really not see what you do to her?"

"Hell yeah, I do," he replied with a smirk. "Still fuckin' got it."

"-Not _that_ , you little deviant," said Nick.

Hancock laughed and held up his hand, "Knew what ya meant. We all saw Kellogg's last memory of her. That fire's always been in her, I just help bring it out every once in a while. Jesus, she looked incredible, didn't she?"

"That she did."

Hancock glared at the guards who remained, nodded towards the stairs, and sent them away before he leaned against the banister with a sigh. "...You know, seein' her all wild and beautiful and then watchin' her fade away when Kellogg forced your hand...I was sure I'd go feral, ain't gonna lie."

"If it makes you feel better, you were coherent when I came to my senses," Nick assured his friend. "Could've been you were just pissed off someone was hurtin' the gal you love."

The ghoul chuckled and said, "You could tell, huh?"

"That you love her? I realized it when I came to and saw your face...she was limp in your arms. You were ready to destroy anyone and anything around you at the possibility of losing her. And what Betty's done, even before she met you, is extraordinary for someone of her circumstances. Pretty sure most people would've kicked the bucket a long time ago. The two of ya together make for a fearsome match," said Nick with a hand on Hancock's shoulder.

The ghoul thought he'd been in love a handful of times before, when he was much younger, but realized as he aged that they were nothing more than simple infatuations and chem-fueled lust. But Betty...she was something else entirely. He _wanted_ to be involved in her life, keep her safe, happy. Him, a stone-cold killer, the one ghoul no one was stupid enough to fuck with, was sweet on the pre-war princess of the Commonwealth. Good thing he was pretty sure she loved him too, or else he'd really feel like an idiot.

Hancock cleared his throat and said, "My mouth's a desert; let's head on up."

The friends walked up the stairs together, Hancock ducking out the door at the first floor to head over to the Third Rail. The synth continued, up the spiraling staircase, until he came face to face with several guards watching the doors to Hancock's room. Valentine lifted his hands as they all pointed their guns.

"The mayor himself let me out. I'm just here to apologize to Betty." said Nick. When the guards refused to lower their weapons, he asked, "Are you really gonna question his decisions after the night he just had?"

The guards, who've all known the detective since they were children, hesitated to step aside and face the possible wrath of an unpredictable boss. After a few moments, when they saw that Valentine posed no threat, they stepped aside and waved him ahead.

The room was dark, but not for a synth whose sight proved superior than most. His eyes fell to the bed where Betty was curled up beneath the sheets, her sides rising and falling at a steady rate. The bruises on her neck had already begun to fade as the stimpaks Amari injected into her worked their magic. Two of the guards stepped into the room, guns ready, but Nick ignored them both and reached out to smooth the hair on Betty's head.

"I'm so sorry, peach. If I could've fought against it, I would have. Lucky for me, your steady decided to spare this ol' bucket of bolts 'cause you asked him to, so thanks for that. I owe ya one, kid. We're all glad to have ya around," Nick whispered.

Betty stirred and turned away from the edge of the bed, making a grab for the pillow beside her before she buried her face in the fabric, his cue to leave Betty to sleep and dream about her new love.

Valentine tipped his hat towards the guards as they closed the bedroom door behind him and headed out to the bar. Goodneighbor was its usual self. A few drunks leaning on corners, a handful of junkies shooting up in an alley...nothing compared to what the town used to be before John took over.

Nick walked down the steps to the Third Rail and found Hancock standing on top of the bar counter, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a cigarette in hand, as he barked orders at anyone unfortunate enough to be noticed.

"What's all the noise about?" Nick asked and then he nodded, knowing the answer already. "Full tin of mentats, I'm guessin'?"

Hancock nodded his head as he took a drag of his smoke and said, "Throwin' a bash tomorrow before Birdie and I head out to the Glowing Sea-don't bother with a lecture, I know it's shitty, she's got power armor."

Valentine chuckled and asked, "Any particular reason? For the bash, I mean."

The ghoul hopped off the counter and smiled, thinking of Mama Murphy's vision. Music. One of the best nights of their lives? He could that. "Birdie's alive. Good enough reason for me. Now cut that investigative shit and help MacCready move the jukebox...unless ya got some business of your own to uh, take care of."

"You know, I just might head over there. Worth a shot, even after all this chaos," said Nick after a long pause.

"Irma defended ya until the end, when the girl and RJ showed up. She ain't a fighter, but she sure gives a damn about ya. Head over, we'll be good here," Hancock insisted. He gripped MacCready's shoulder hard, eliciting a pained grunt from the young merc and said, "Got the best damn workhorse a mayor could ask for."

It was a short walk from the Third Rail to the Memory Den for the synth. He hoped Irma didn't see him as some sort of monster now. For people like himself and John, it was a risk to lose control without those who care for them shunning them out of fear. Nick couldn't blame any who felt that way. He was even ready to accept the fact that Betty would keep her distance.

Valentine tried to open the door to the Memory Den but it was locked tight. Irma..must not want to see him. Still, he wanted to apologize for the chaos at the very least, and banged his fist loudly on the wooden door. A few moments later, as the synth turned to leave, the door creaked open and he turned his head. Irma stood behind the door, red-faced and puffy-eyed.

Nick took off his battered fedora and said, "Sorry about earlier, Irma. Still up for that chat we spoke about? Got...got a lot on my mind."

Irma threw her arms around Nick's neck and kissed him, grateful that the synth hadn't been deemed a danger by the mayor. She smiled up at him, grabbed him by his tie and dragged him into the den, a better reaction than what Nick hoped for.

* * *

After working through the night and most of the morning, Hancock opened the door to his bedroom with care and stuck his head in to check on his girl. Betty was still fast asleep, the sheets twisted around her bare legs as she clutched a pillow to her chest. The ghoul walked in, taking care to be quiet as he made sure she was breathing at a steady rate. The bruises on her neck were already faded and gone. Satisfied, and a little stunned at the sight of the gorgeous woman in his bed, he began to search through a chest of drawers. Though he loved his red frock coat, it wasn't enough for the sort of evening he planned for. Betty would be the one to stand out in her uniform, but that didn't mean he'd half-ass his own attire.

The ghoul peeked outside his bedroom and threw a pair of black dress shoes at one of his guards. "Get your fuckin' shine box and work some magic on those."

"Right away, mayor. Anything else?"

Hancock held up one finger and disappeared into his room before he returned with a burlap sack and shoved it into the guard's arms. "These need to be washed and pressed. Leave Betty's uniform folded on the bed and if she ever mentions any funny shit, I'll nail your cock and balls to Goodneighbor's gates. Bring the rest to the bar when you're done. You got until dusk, so hurry the fuck up." The guard nodded and rushed down the stairs, sending another guard up to take his place.

Pleased with how things had turned out so far, Hancock stepped into his office and sifted through the desk for paper and an envelope to pen a short note for Betty. He crept back into the bedroom and left the envelope on the nightstand before he leaned down and kissed his girl softly on the mouth.

"You're in for a mess of trouble tonight," he whispered to the still sleeping Betty. "Hope you're ready. Been waitin' my whole life for someone like you."

The ghoul returned to the bar, where some of his guards worked alongside citizens to prepare for the biggest bash in Goodneighbor since he took over a decade ago. Only a couple of hours remained before dusk settled in..and MacCready still hadn't returned from his errand.

"Where the hell is the kid?" Hancock asked Whitechapel Charlie as he took a seat at the bar counter.

The robotic bartender lifted one of his arms and said, "Dunno, boss, but he took that bird 'oo asks too many questions with 'im." Charlie handed Hancock a list of inventory and the ghoul looked it over with some interest.

"Less vodka and more whiskey would be better, house favorite and all that jazz. Gotta get rid of this med-x, though," said Hancock as he rapped his fingers on the sheet of paper. "Keep 'em in the back tucked away so no one grabs 'em by accident. Don't wanna see any of that shit out on the floor...and make sure everyone follows suit. Ham, you feel me?"

"Oi, this betta not be permanent, boss, 'less ya want ter lose a fortune," said Charlie.

Hancock scoffed and replied, "Just for tonight, don't get your fuckin' metal panties in a twist over it. Ham? Answer me!"

"Got it, mayor. I'll check everyone before they head downstairs," the bouncer assured him as he headed to the entrance.

"Thanks, brother." Hancock shoved the inventory list towards Charlie with a grunt. Fahrenheit followed him as he barked for the guards to turn all the tables exactly 45 degrees to the right. "To the RIGHT, you morons! Jesus! God fuckin' help us all if the Institute comes knockin'!"

"Can I ask about the whole, no med-x thing?" Fahrenheit asked, her voice low, as the ghoul searched beneath the counter for the half bottle of whiskey he'd left there the night before.

His dark eyes narrowed as he took a few gulps straight from the bottle and when she refused to back off, he answered, "No, ya can't...and you of all people should know better."

"Something happened."

Hancock scoffed. "No shit."

"What happened to you?" she pressed. Her mouth became a tight line and she whispered, "Did you almost overdose? I told you to stop pushing it so hard!"

"Not another word outta your damn mouth, girl," he warned. "And I ain't touched the shit for almost two weeks now, even refused it when that mirelurk queen fucked me up at the Castle, so don't talk to me like I still got some sorta problem. Matter of fact, you should stop talkin' all together."

Fahrenheit stopped suddenly and whispered, "It was Betty, wasn't it?"

Hancock reached up and grabbed the front of his body guard's armor, forcing her down to his eye level and whispered, "Not. A. Word. Risk for her new found title and all, and I can't see her like that again...broken and sobbing-I won't! It ain't her, who she wants to be."

"Oh my god," she said with a shocked laugh. "You're in love with her!" Hancock refused to answer her and she clapped her hands with a grin. "It's finally happened. You fell. _Hard_. Never thought I'd live to see the day. Have you told her?"

He shook his head and replied, "I'd rather show her."

"Pretty sure she'd want to hear it."

"She will," Hancock said with grin, "while I'm showin' her tonight."

Fahrenheit sat on the couch near her boss and rested her boots on the low coffee table as the ghoul continued to shout out instructions about one thing or another. Fahrenheit couldn't believe some of the stories Hancock told her last night about his time with Betty. She never imagined the new blood would make it, especially being a pre-war gal. Women had a hard enough life nowadays, being targets for raiders and the like, and she was sure Hancock would return with news of Betty's death. Instead, MacCready said Hancock and Betty were arm in arm when they arrived, the vault girl passing as a mercenary type after spending almost a month trekking across the Commonwealth. Fahrenheit was proud of Hancock, both for keeping his shit together and the patience that earned him a shot at the sole survivor. He deserved it, for all the good he's done.

A guard walked down the steps, holding up two suits and a burlap sack. Hancock bumped fists with the guard and hung the suits over his shoulder and said to Fahrenheit, "Gonna start getting ready. Send MacCready in when he gets here."

"You got it, boss," she answered.

Hancock ruffled the hair on her head, knowing her hatred for it. She swatted his hand away and he asked, "Got a date for tonight?"

"I _always_ have a date," said Fahrenheit with a smug grin.

"Damn right. Learned from the best."

A half hour later, MacCready rushed into the bathroom just as Hancock pulled on his slacks, the young merc's chest heaving as he reached into his vest and held up a tin.

"Just missed an eyeful of ghoul cock," said Hancock with a smirk.

"Thank god, I'd be pretty useless as a blind sniper," said RJ as he caught his breath. The mayor laughed and asked how the pick up at Graygarden went with Piper. "She's uh, pretty terrible at shooting but her hangin' onto me the whole time made me feel good. Talks a lot though, Jesus."

"You two smash yet?"

"What? No!"

The ghoul shook his head with a laugh and said, "You got a lot to learn regardin' the ladies. By the way, the blue one's yours, kid."

Hancock pointed at the suit next to Hancock's black jacket and MacCready shook his head several times. "No way man, I'm not wearing that-"

"-Ya either wear the suit or Fahrenheit gets to use ya as target practice. Think of it as...retribution for bein' late."

"...I'll take the suit, thanks."

The men changed into their respective suits for the evening in silence. After what happened with Lucy and the ghoul who watched over him and his pseudo-siblings at Little Lamplight, MacCready was a hesitant to put his trust in a ghoul again. But like many who met the flashy mayor in person, RJ couldn't help but like and respect Hancock.

RJ tucked his crisp white shirt into his slacks and groaned when Hancock held out the matching tie to the suit.

"Gotta wear the tie, man. Can't expect these dames to fall for us if we don't put in the effort, you feel me?" the ghoul explained.

MacCready tried in vain to twist a knot for his necktie and threw it in the sink after several frustrating attempts.

"Left or right handed?" asked Hancock after a moment.

"Er, right."

Hancock moved to MacCready's right side and undid his own tie. He motioned to the sink and said, "Just follow what I'm doin', it's only a pain in the ass the first few times. Same way my dad taught me."

MacCready snatched the tie and positioned it around his neck with a huff. "I'm gonna look like a freakin' idiot."

"-You sayin' I look like an idiot?"

"-No!"

"Then shut up and put the damn tie on."

It took the usually skilled mercenary a few tries but MacCready finally achieved a somewhat decent knot and sighed when Hancock ripped the hat off his head and pointed to a comb by the faucet. Without any more protest on his part, RJ dipped the comb into the water and combed his hair to the side. That damn cowlick at the back of his head wouldn't give up..

"It ain't the prettiest but it's good enough. Should catch that reporter's attention," said Hancock after he checked MacCready's fourth attempt at taming his hair.

"Look, I've never been great with this sorta crap. I got lucky with Lucy."

"What about that ghoul who watched over you when you were younger? Didn't have anything to teach ya?"

MacCready was silent for a moment before he explained, "Charon? He wasn't good around people except for the vault girl, Ava. She was bloodthirsty like him. Made sense they'd get along. At least he taught me how to shoot better. He was the best."

It was the second time MacCready had spoken to Hancock about his young life at length. The first was almost a year ago, when he offered shelter to the battered young merc from the Gunners. RJ spoke about how he was the second craziest ghoul he'd ever met, the first being his guardian, and then the merc passed out drunk over the counter. Other than a sentence or two of comparison, MacCready never mentioned his life with the pair in the Capital Wasteland.

"What happened to them, if ya don't mind me askin'?"

"They split up before the Brotherhood reclaimed the Outcast branch I told you about last night. The vault girl joined the Outcasts and he didn't want anything to do with it at first. He might've gone after her in the end...it'd be something he'd do. That's the last any of us kids heard from either of them. One day they were screwing, then they were shovin' and puchin', and then the next, they were both gone. She's probably dead. She wouldn't make it without him. Too hot-headed. I tried to find Charon, thinking he'd made it, but no one had seen him for years by the time I was able to make it out on my own."

Hancock frowned, not expecting such an answer and said, "For what it's worth kid, I may give you a lot of shit, but if you ever need me I'll be there with guns or fists. I ain't gonna let you down."

RJ stared hard at the mirror and whispered to Hancock, "...You're a better man than he ever was."

He nodded appreciatively, gave MacCready's back a rough pat after he pulled on his jacket and said, "Let's go nab some arm candy."

Back at the bar, Fahrenheit's jaw dropped at the sight of her boss in a tuxedo. Hancock glanced at himself in the mirror behind the bar and adjusted the knot on his tie.

"God _damn_ , I'm one handsome motherfucker," he said with a smile. "Might wear this every day!"

"Hopefully you'll be one after tonight," said Fahrenheit with a smirk. "A mother fucker."

The ghoul chuckled. Even MacCready had to take another glance at himself and he smiled as Piper popped up from behind his shoulder. In lieu of her newscap and red trenchcoat, she wore a soft, green dress instead.

"You clean up nice..for a merc," said the reporter as she gave him a smile.

"And you're still a horrible shot," said RJ. "But I guess your hair looks okay without that dumb hat."

Luckily for RJ, Piper threw her head back with a laugh and punched him in the shoulder. Fahrenheit and Hancock glanced at each other with a sigh. MacCready would learn the gift of gab eventually but tonight, he was on his own.

* * *

A real and surprisingly comfortable bed made for some of the best sleep Betty had gotten in since leaving Vault 111. She stared at the ceiling with a wide grin at the thought of the night before with Hancock.

"God," she said to herself. "I can't wait until he does that again."

Betty rolled in the sheets, inhaling the scent and she giggled into the pillow. She sat up, her smile bright and stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. Her General's uniform was folded neatly at the edge of the bed, and she couldn't help but be impressed at how her ghoul kept his town running like a well-oiled machine.

She noticed an envelope on the night stand with ' _General Elizabeth Parker'_ written across the front in Hancock's strangely elegant script. She tore it open and read:

" _Hey Sunshine,_

 _Hope you got enough shut eye; didn't wanna wake ya. Got a dinner planned for us at the bar, a little after dusk. Be there or be-"_

Betty snickered at Hancock's sketch of a square that took up most of the note, which ended with a heart scribble and the letters ' _MJH_ '. She clutched the note to her chest with a smile before tucked the note into her knapsack for safekeeping.

She dressed in her General's uniform and took a moment to admire the coat in the mirror before she checked her Pip-boy and it was nearly time for their dinner. She gathered her hair high on her head, tied off the ends and with a quick glance in the mirror, she was off to the Third Rail.

Betty stepped out of the Old State House, a bit unnerved that the streets of Goodneighbor were mostly empty, save for a few drifters she wasn't familiar with. Even Kleo and Daisy were missing. A bit of dread washed over Betty at that moment when thoughts of an ambush crept into her mind. Triggermen were no longer an issue...it was the Institute she worried about now. She shuddered and continued towards the bar. Hancock would lift her spirits, as he always had since they met.

A foolish grin appeared on her face at the thought of him. It seemed like an eternity since she felt this way, not since Nate, of course. No longer did she feel guilt or sadness. Nate was never the possessive type, and she knew he would want her to be happy and loved rather than alone and miserable. It's the same she would've wanted for him if he were in her boots.

Opening the door to the bar's entrance, Betty was relieved to hear voices, the occasional laugh, and the sound of instruments being tuned. Instead of Ham guarding the entrance with his infamous sullen disposition, she found MacCready leaning against the wall, chatting with one of Charlie's errand boys. She almost choked when she saw his hat and duster were replaced with a clean, blue suit, his hair neatly combed to the side, save for that bit of a cowlick at the back...maybe he'd let her fix it..

"Hey Betty," MacCready said. He sent the errand boy away with a glare and beckoned her closer.

"What's with the fancy threads?" she asked, trying to smooth down the wild tuft of hair. "And where's Ham?"

"Don't even bother with my hair, it's not gonna happen. Ham's..uh, takin' a piss." MacCready glanced at his pocket watch and gave her a sheepish grin. "As far as the suit, I was...thinkin' about asking Piper out for some drinks. Hancock insisted on this damn tie, and now I'm not sure if he's messing with me or not."

"He was spot on about the tie, as per usual. I'm surprised he doesn't have a damn tailor. In all seriousness, you look great; I'm sure she'll say yes." Betty reached out and fixed the knot on his tie, before she smoothed it out and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Ask her about being a reporter. That's her thing."

"That's gonna be the shortest conversation in bar history. I don't have time to pick up some crummy newspaper when I'm getting shot at. Have to shoot back, you know, show them who's boss."

Betty pat his chest with a loud laugh. "Ask _her_ the questions about it and you'll get a start."

"Thanks, Bets. Hancock's waiting downstairs for you. He's a little...wired, but he should be better now that you're here."

"When is he not?" she replied with a chuckle.

When Betty reached the bottom of the stairs, it became obvious why the streets of Goodneighbor were empty. Nearly the entire town had packed into the modest bar, and they greeted Betty with cheers and a roar of thunderous applause.

MacCready appeared behind her shoulder and said, "Oh, and this party's for you."

"Why?" she asked.

"Cuz you didn't croak last night and Hancock wanted to celebrate."

"One, two, three!" a voice shouted. The music began and Betty looked toward the stage. Ham stood beside the beautiful Magnolia, caressing the microphone as he shouted once more, "One, two, three!"

The music was deafening as the town of Goodneighbor tore up the dance floor.

"Ham?" Betty asked. The ghoul who never looked like he enjoyed a day in his life had a voice that put many on the radio to shame.

MacCready, noticing her surprise, laughed and said to her, "Why the heck do you think we call him Ham?"

"Hell yeah, Ham!" Betty cheered.

She searched for her ghoul in the crowd. With his red coat, he was usually easy to seek out, but the bar was packed tighter than a can of cram. Betty squeezed through groups of residents, some offering their gratitude, others their congratulations and maybe a shot of moonshine or two. She passed a table dominated by the small and fiery Cricket...who took a shot before she spun the chamber of a revolver and put it to her head with maniacal laughter. Her guards cheered and just before she could pull the trigger, Betty snatched the gun from her hands and emptied it of bullets, tossing it on another table far from Cricket's grasp.

Now where the hell was that ghoul?

Hancock stood near Fahrenheit in the VIP section, finishing up his third cigarette in a row when Betty walked into a full house. Her smile lit up the party, as he knew it would. He watched his girl work the room, taking a few shots and preventing Cricket from blowing her brains out all over his god damn bar. Good call. He stabbed his smoke out and took a swig of whiskey.

"You think the tux is too much?" he asked one of the guards who stood just outside of the doorway.

"Looking sharper than ever, sir," the guard replied.

"God damn right I do, just like hearin' someone else say it."

"Is Betty here yet?" Fahrenheit asked as she tore her attention away from the scantily-clad woman draped across her lap.

"Yep, Ham just started crooning," Hancock said as he walked through the doorway.

Betty was pulled onto the dance floor and she tugged on the sleeves of her long coat. She caught her reflection in the mirror behind the bar and stood a bit straighter, admiring herself for a moment. She was the General, the fucking General of the Minutemen. It was almost surreal. Not so long ago, she was crawling out of a vault, gasping for life and now here she was, running the show. All with the help of a ghoul, out of his mind with bloodlust and chems, who couldn't take his dark eyes off her. He..he was everything. She never believed she'd ever feel this way again.

"Mayor comin' through! Outta my way, god damn!" she heard Hancock shout from a couple of feet away.

The crowd parted just enough for Betty to see why she couldn't find Hancock right away. She expected his red frock coat and instead was greeted by her partner wearing a tuxedo finer than anything she'd seen in the wasteland. God damn, did he look _good_. It was almost enough for her to tear it off of him, but that she would save for later. A party was just what she needed.

"John! I love this, thank you!" Betty shouted over Ham's suave singing voice.

Hancock grinned as he took Betty's hand, giving her a short twirl before pulling her into his embrace and kissing her full on the mouth. The entirety of the bar cheered for the pair. It was true, they all loved their mayor and wanted nothing more for him than what unfolded before them.

Hancock pulled away from a breathless, blushing Betty and said, "Before you say or do anything, I got you somethin' special here."

He dug through his jacket pockets until he found a beat up mentats tin and handed it to her. She cocked her arched brow and smiled.

"Go ahead, take a peek," he encouraged, barely able to contain himself. Every thought, every feeling that surged through him felt brand new when he looked at Betty. Hancock often joked that what he felt for her was "about eighty percent as good" as chems, but it was a farce. He wouldn't tell Betty for many, many years that she was his greatest high in life.

Betty opened the tin and the unmistakeable scent of marijuana hit her right smack in the face. She squealed with delight, forcing Hancock's withered heart into his throat. Lord Almighty, was she ever beautiful. It was her smile that would be the death of him, he was sure. Betty threw herself into Hancock's arms, grabbed his face and kissed him back, warmth flooding her senses. Hancock thrust his fist above them and the bar exploded with a deafening roar of cheers for the pair.

He finally had his girl. Took him long enough.

"I know you ain't the surprisin' type but I figured, eh, why the hell not?" Hancock said to Betty before giving her a peck on her cheek.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" she asked.

"I ask myself that every day since I've met ya. Sometimes twice, 'specially when you make an impossible shot with that rifle of yours," said the ghoul. His hand slid down her hip and he grabbed a handful of her ass with a wink. "Now, I can get away with a lot more."

"That you can," Betty laughed and took his arm. "C'mon, let me show you _my_ ride of choice."

Hancock led her over to the back room of the bar and took a seat in his favorite regal armchair. Betty searched for a spot to sit, trying her best not to look over at Fahrenheit, who's hands were roaming beneath her date's shirt. Hancock whistled, gaining Betty's attention, and pointed to his lap as he took a drink from Charlie.

"Charlie, I'd like to see a new seat for my Birdie here...I'm thinkin' maybe leather, red if you can swing it, on my left by tomorrow night. And uh...ya might wanna give Fahrenheit's spot a wash after while you're at it," Hancock tells the bartender, jerking his thumb in his bodyguard's direction as Betty settled into his lap.

"'Course, boss," Charlie answered, lowering his thrusters in respect. He turned to Betty and asked, "Would ya like anythin', General? Drink, spot o' tea, chems?"

"Whiskey, please" she replied after some thought. It was a party, after all, and this was the most polite Charlie had ever been towards Betty. She had to take advantage of that.

"Make it a double, hers and mine," said Hancock with a wink over her shoulder.

She tugged on his sleeve and asked, "Could you spare a few cigarettes for this little project of mine?"

He looked about for the last pack of cigarettes he'd seen, and groaned when he noticed it wedged between Fahrenheit and her company for the evening. Wincing, he reached between the women and yanked the crumpled box free. "Damn it, girl, I don't wanna see any of that from you!"

Fahrenheit came up for air, directing a loopy grin at Hancock before she answered, "I'll remember that next time, _Dad.."_

"There you go with the dad shit again," he replied, trying to hold back his laugh but failing. "Give me your damn smokes, your big ass crushed these."

Betty realized that Nick wasn't at the party and asked Hancock if he returned to Diamond City already.

"He might show up later but right now, I'm pretty sure he's nailin' Irma on that couch of hers."

Hancock gave Betty the pack of smokes and watched her lean over the table and gently squeeze out the tobacco from inside several cigarettes, setting aside the now empty filters. Betty opened the tin and inhaled the scent several times before she picked a few of the smaller buds and shredded them with her fingers.

"You gonna stuff that in the cigarette?" asked Hancock as he studied her motions.

She nodded and explained, "Unless you have some rolling papers laying about, these will do just fine. I used to make these so I could get away with smoking on campus."

His hand slipped beneath her coat and under her shirt, his touch warm against the bare skin of her back. "I love it when you're bad."

Betty smiled and held up three cigarettes, their ends twisted off, and kissed him before she slipped one of the cigarettes between his lips. She handed one to Fahrenheit, who smelled it several times with an arched brow, and kept one for herself.

"Same as a cigarette?" asked Fahrenheit. She held the joint to her mouth and nodded towards Hancock before she asked, "Should I skip this? Still gotta watch over his crazy ass."

"It'll get you a little loopy, but you should be all right. Effects last about an hour, longer if you smoke the whole thing in one shot," Betty explained.

Hancock lit his joint without hesitation and savored the harsh smoke before he coughed out, "Ho-ho-holy shiiiit...!"

The girls erupted with laughter and followed suit. After a half-hour, Betty made a few more of her pseudo-joints and the entirety of VIP was filled with a thick haze of smoke. The music continued outside the room and the floor was packed with the town residents dancing and drinking to their heart's content.

Betty was pretty stoned, and after two centuries, it hit her hard. The lights twinkled a bit brighter, the music sounded better, and the ghoul's hands on her skin made her tremble with pleasure. She wanted to move, to feel new things, hell, she wanted to dance.

She stood up, a wild grin on her face before she turned to her love and said, "Tell me you can dance-"

Hancock jumped to his feet.

"God damn, took ya forever to ask!" He loosened the knot on his tie before he grabbed her hand and said, "Come on, baby. Let's twist."

Betty laughed as Hancock shoved locals out of the way and dragged her onto the dancefloor. She had a feeling her ghoul would be up for a dance, but she didn't expect him to be so damn good at it, like he was at pretty much everything else he tried. Before the war, she got used to the idea that the men in her life just didn't dance even though she loved to herself. Now it it was her who could barely keep up with Hancock's twist. Even Fahrenheit joined in, and it was obvious who taught her to cut a rug. Beside her, MacCready danced with Piper, and he gave Betty a thumbs up as the reporter pressed her backside against him.

"Get 'em, kid!" Hancock shouted before he turned Betty out for a spin. He snatched a beer from the bar counter and chugged it in three gulps before he took the joint tucked behind her ear and lit it.

"Got the robots at Graygarden to grow this, ya know!" he shouted above the music. He cackled loudly and said, "Garvey has no idea!"

Betty plucked the joint from his mouth with a laugh and took a heavy drag before she passed it to MacCready, who cocked his head at the uncommon, slight citrus aroma. He took a hit and nodded with new interest.

"Take a few more drags," Betty mentioned and when it finally hit him, MacCready turned Piper and kissed her, which the reporter returned with much enthusiasm of her own.

"Man, we are gonna bank on this plant of yours," said Hancock with a laugh. The bar erupted with applause as Ham rolled in another keg.

"What else do you have hidden up your sleeve?" Betty murmured into his ear before she kissed him.

Hancock savored her bit of affection before he whispered, "We'd have to head to my office to find out, 'less you don't mind putting on a show."

Betty grabbed the ghoul's rough hand and pulled him through the crowd and up the stairwell, where MacCready and Piper had hidden themselves away, the merc's hand reaching beneath the reporter's green dress.

Man, this was a hell of a good night. And it was about to get better.

* * *

Outside the Third Rail, Hancock backed Betty against the crumbling brick wall and kissed her hard, the taste of whiskey on her tongue. His hands roamed past her hips as he gripped her backside and pressed himself against her.

"I'm gonna cuff ya to that god damn bed up there," he growled into her ear before he kissed her again. "It'll be weeks before we see sunlight again."

"Are you trying to get as many firsts with me as possible?" she asked with a grin.

Hancock couldn't hold back his smirk and said, "I don't know how to tell ya this but...I'm into some pretty crazy shit and handcuffs are nothin' in comparison."

Betty gulped and suggested, "How about..anything you spring on me, I try it on you first. Fair enough?"

"Done," said Hancock. He reached into his back pocket and held up a set of stainless steel handcuffs. "Cuff me."

Her hands settled on her hip and she asked, "You were carrying those around the entire time?"

"I bought 'em off Cricket after that night you felt me up. I knew you wanted to smash; just didn't know _when_." Hancock reached out and stroked Betty's ponytail with a soft smile. He twisted her hair between his fingers, relishing its softness, before he gripped it firmly, eliciting a startled gasp from his girl. "-That's a side of me you ain't seen much of. Glimpses, sure, always been a flirt. But you ain't seen nothin' yet."

Betty stared at him wide-eyed before she broke into a smile and whispered, "Prove it."

Hancock kissed her hard, his hand still a fist in her hair before they both rushed to the Old State House.

"Safe word's Jet!"

"What the hell is a safe word?"

Hancock glanced up at the night sky and laughedbefore he opened the door with a ram of his shoulder so forceful, one of its hinges tore from the wall.

"Instead of shoutin' out 'no', we're gonna use safe words. Ours is 'Jet'. Don't forget it...because I ain't gonna tell ya again," he explained as they ran up the wooden steps.

Betty jumped Hancock at the top of the stairs, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing his face and neck as he walked them to his bedroom. She tore off his jacket and tossed it aside before she reached into his back pocket and pulled out the handcuffs. She backed him against the edge of the bed as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, and her hands roamed to the bare skin of his muscles chest before she shoved him back.

She straddled him before his lips found hers with a groan on his part.

"Give me your hands," Betty breathed.

Hancock held up his palms with a smirk. "Yes ma'am. Sure you ain't done this before?"

The metal was cold against his skin as Betty cuffed his wrists to the wooden headboard of his bed.

"Never, but I get the idea."

Betty climbed off him and stood beside the bed as she pulled off her General's coat, kicked off her boots, and shimmied out of her pants. Hancock leaned back with an amused grin. This was going to be good. Betty tore at her shirt and ripped several buttons before she dropped it to the floorboards, her pale breasts heaving with each shaky breath.

His jaw dropped at the sight and he shouted, "You've been keepin' those from me?!"

"We wouldn't have gotten anything done otherwise."

"...Smart move, love. Now come over here and lemme put my face in 'em," he demanded.

Betty leaned forward, pushing her breasts together just out of Hancock's reach, and the ghoul struggled at his restraints, even sticking his tongue out to no avail, and Betty leaned back with a laugh.

"Pretty sure you're not in a position to tell me what to do, John," she said.

Her fingers drifted over her hardened nipples, down her stomach and over her underwear, pulling them down. She turned away and bent over as she pulled the thin cloth down to her ankles, giving Hancock one hell of an eyeful.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he said under his breath when his dark eyes fell upon her slit. He heard Betty laugh softly before she reached behind her and spread her cheeks apart. The ghoul groaned again at the sight and pulled at the cuffs, the metal digging into his skin as the headboard creaked with his effort to escape.

Betty reached down and undid the buckle of his belt before doing the same for the two buttons of his slacks. Her mind hummed with lust, untouched for more than two centuries. She wrapped her hand around his length, earning herself a rare shudder from the hotshot ghoul.

"Big heart, big cock," she said with a smile. "It's a wonder you've never mentioned it before."

"I like keepin' it a surprise," he said with smug grin.

"Aren't I lucky? I can't wait until you fuck me with it."

"Jesus, that pot shit gives ya a hell of a dirty mouth. What else can you do with it?" he goaded her.

Betty unzipped his pants and said, "I was just about to show you."

Hancock slammed his head into the headboard with a sharp breath as she wrapped her lips around the head of his length. He groaned as she took more of him into her mouth. She was way too good at this. He watched her head bob up and down, her mouth warm and wet around the jagged skin of his cock.

"Just like that, love," he murmured.

The ghoul had always been proud of his stamina in bed, but with the way his girl was working her mouth on him brought him to the very edge.

"Almost there..almost.." he panted. Betty pulled away just as he reached the brink and he shouted, "The fuck? What the fuck are you doing?"

She smiled and said, "Well, it wouldn't be any fun if you popped right now, would it?"

"But I can go again in less than five! Betty, c'mon, stop bein' such a cocktease-"

"-Keep talking and I'll leave you cuffed to this bed. I can always go back to the party without you."

Hancock opened his mouth and Betty stood up, her hands on her hips. He'd never wanted anyone as badly as he did at that moment. The handcuffs started to cut into his wrists as he pulled at them again and she smiled before she grabbed a chair beside the door.

"I want to do something I've never done for anyone," said Betty as she sat down on the chair. Hancock nodded and she lifted one leg onto the bed. "You can watch."

Her fingers slipped between her thighs and the ghoul swallowed hard as she began to touch herself. She moaned, and he continued to fight against the cuffs, pulling harder and harder with every moan from Betty's lips. She spread her lips apart with one hand and pushed two of her fingers inside herself.

"I don't want you to come yet," said Hancock. "I wanna be the one who makes that gorgeous body of yours tremble."

"Oh?" she asked. "Too bad."

Betty straddled Hancock again before she slid her wet fingers into his mouth and he groaned at the taste of her on his tongue.

"Ain't ever tasted anyone as sweet as you, love," Hancock said to her. She reached down between them and slipped her fingers inside herself again before she brought them to her own mouth and for the first time in his life, Hancock found himself begging.

"Please...please, just sit on my cock, come on..you don't even gotta uncuff me," he whispered. "I'll destroy this entire town if it means I get to be inside of you."

Betty kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth as she moaned. The thought of him inside of her, filling her with every thick inch of him, made her consider uncuffing him, but she was enjoying his pleading words a little too much to do that yet. She sat up and wrapped her hand around his cock again before she rubbed it against her wet slit.

"Is this what you want?" she asked.

"Yes, god yes!"

"I don't know," she teased. "I don't think you've made a good enough case..."

Hancock couldn't take it anymore. He had to have her and he wouldn't wait one more minute. He gave one final attempt at freedom from his binds with a mighty pull and the headboard gave way.

Betty's jaw dropped and she whispered "Oh shi-"

-He looped his arms around his girl and pulled her against his chest, the cuffs digging into her spine as his dark eyes narrowed.

"Did you _really_ think a pair of handcuffs could hold me back?" Hancock asked. She shook her head and his eyes caught the glint of a bobby pin behind her ear. He smirked and told her, "I _always_ find a way."

His cuffed hands reached up for the back of her neck and his kiss was enough distraction to pull the bobby pin free with his fingertips without Betty noticing a thing. Hancock brought his wrists to the small of her back and he picked at the lock as he smiled at Betty. The handcuffs fell away and his hand was at her throat in an instant. He waited for a few moments, expecting Betty to shout out "Jet!" but when he gave her throat a gentle squeeze, she moaned and he had to grin.

"I didn't think you'd have it in ya, to keep up with me. I love that you keep provin' me wrong." He held up the cuffs and whispered, "Your turn."

Betty pushed away from Hancock and scrambled from the bed. He lunged forward, his hand catching her ankle, and they tumbled to the floorboards. He closed the cuffs around her wrists and stood up, pulling Betty to her feet, before he pinned her against the wall beside the bed. He spread her legs apart with his knee and pressed himself against the silky wetness between her thighs.

"How bad do you want me?" he asked her. "Say it."

"More than anything," she answered with a moan. "I want you inside of me...please, John."

He almost came right then when she said his name.

"Again," he growled.

"Please," Betty begged. "Please fuck me, John."

Hancock pushed into her and his knees weakened at her warmth surrounding his cock. Betty cried out and his lips crushed hers to stifle his own grunt of pleasure. He brought her cuffed wrists to his neck and reached down, lifting her leg to wrap it around his waist before he thrust every inch of himself deep inside of her. His breath caught in his throat when Betty's eyes met his stare.

"I love you," Hancock confessed. He thrust into her again, harder than before. "God damn, I am crazy in love with you."

"Oh, John," Betty kissed him hard. "I love you, too."

Hancock couldn't hold back his grin as he pounded into her flesh, her moans urging him on. He reached between them and rubbed at her most pleasurable spot with his thumb and she cried out again. If she came, he would too. He couldn't take much more.

"Don't..don't ever leave me-" she breathed into his ear. He shook his head and his thrusts became more frantic and desperate.

"-I won't," he grunted. "I'll die before I do."

Her walls clenched tight around his cock as she came, her nails digging into the back of neck, overwhelmed with the wave of pleasure surging through every nerve. He slammed his fist into the wall as he spilled into her and his moan shook her to the very core.

The pair sank to the floor, their chests rising and falling almost in unison as Betty buried her face into the crook of Hancock's neck with a final shudder. He kissed the top of her head several times and held her close until they could both catch their breath.

"I do love you, John," said Betty. "I thought I'd never feel this way again."

"Love you, Birdie," he whispered, his fingers stroking the skin of her breast. "Man...I'm gonna be real mad if this turns out to be one big Jet flashback."

They both burst with laughter until tears fell.

"Up for another round?" Betty asked with a raised brow.

"You even gotta ask?"


	17. The Glowing Sea

**Hello out there! Sorry this one is late. Had a crazy day and decided to rewrite everything I had for this piece. Totally worth it. Thanks as always for your reviews, favs, and follows! Hope you enjoy this one :)**

* * *

Hancock was never a fan of mornings and the splitting hangover headaches he woke up with a majority of the time. Today was no different but there was a smokin' hot babe in the bed next to him, the general of a militia for the people no less, and they were absolutely wild for each other. Life was pretty damn good, hungover or not.

The ghoul reached behind him, expecting his hand to caress a bit of smooth, untarnished skin but his fingertips didn't quite reach. He rolled over with a tired grin that faded at the sight of the empty space on the bed beside him, and his heart thumped at a rapid pace. Betty was gone. Shit. The door creaked opened without a knock and he pointed the pistol kept beneath his pillow at the possible threat.

Betty walked in, wearing Hancock's red frock coat around her shoulders and not a damn thing else, as she held two steaming mugs in either hand. The few guards outside the door ogled her figure without shame. Betty decided that morning, since she was pretty sure the entirety of Goodneighbor heard every carnal sound that emanated from their room, she didn't give a shit what state Hancock's guards caught her in any longer. There were more important things to worry about...like how they had to locate a rogue Institute scientist in the middle of a radiated desert.

"Well, look at you," said Hancock as his grin returned and he lowered the pistol. "I must still be dreamin'."

"God, I hope not, because that would mean it's not real for me either," Betty replied. She walked over and bent down to kiss him, the guards craning their necks at the sight. "Should I get dressed?"

Hancock shook his head with a laugh and said, "Let 'em stare. Proud to have ya on my arm..in my bed..on the balcony..."

Betty chuckled and handed the ghoul one of the mugs. "A little hair of the dog for us both, but yours is mostly whiskey with a splash of coffee."

"Now I know you love me," he said before he drank the whole cup in two gulps. The moment Betty set her mug on the nightstand, Hancock grabbed her wrist and pulled her into bed. He leaned over her as he smoothed his hand down her arm and over her hip while he admired her figure. "Never thought I'd ever meet my match. Nice to be wrong. Sorry you fell for me yet?"

She looked up at Hancock and smiled. "There's no one I'd rather be with, handsome."

"Startin' to believe ya when you say it."

"Good. So just how dangerous is this Glowing Sea?" she asked.

Hancock sat up against the ruined headboard and reached for a pack of smokes before he lit two and offered one to Betty.

"Dangerous enough that we should start gettin' ready, as much as I'd like to stay in bed with you all day. Clean out our guns and make sure we get to the Castle with enough time to check your power armor. That place ain't no joke...and we don't even know where the hell Virgil is hiding himself."

Betty rolled out of the bed with a loud groan, the cigarette hanging from a corner of her lip. She pulled off Hancock's red coat and hung it over an armchair before she padded into his office. The ghoul chuckled as his guards pushed and shoved one another to get a better view of Betty as she dressed. He stood up, the sheets falling from around his waist without a care in the world, and he leaned against the doorway with a grin.

The guards glanced back at Hancock with reddened faces and he said to them, "Enjoyin' the show?"

"S-sorry, mayor," a guard stammered. "She don't look like the gals you usually bring in here is all."

Hancock waved off their apologies and replied, "So long as you're respectful. One of ya go and grab us somethin' to eat, we're heading back out in a bit."

A half hour later, after Hancock's 'breakfast of champions' which consisted of FancyLads snack cakes and a bottle of moonshine, the pair began to load up on fresh ammo courtesy of Kleo. Fahrenheit sulked beside the assaultron as she cleaned out Hancock's shotgun..which obviously hadn't been cleaned since the _last_ time he forced her to do manual labor.

"When the fuck are you going to learn this shit?" Fahrenheit asked her boss as she held up part of the shotgun. "I'm getting tired of doing it."

"I know how, just don't care to..'specially when I have ya around," said Hancock before he laughed. His guard threw an oil-soaked rag at him and he added, "You stain it, you wash it."

Betty tried in vain to stuff yet another box of 5.56 ammo into her knapsack until the metal hand of Detective Valentine reached out and squashed it down for her.

"Where have _you_ been?" Betty asked Nick with a smirk before she rest her head against his shoulder in a sort of, _I know you didn't mean to strangle me, we're still friends_ show of affection.

Valentine chuckled and said, "Spending some much needed time with Irma. I hope you don't think I've been ignoring you two, it's-"

"-Don't sweat it, brother. Sometimes, you gotta smash a few times before all's right in the world again. Ask Birdie," said Hancock. "I screwed her enough that she forgot all about that shit back at the den."

"And there goes my private life forever," said Betty over her shoulder. She turned to Hancock, took his hand and asked in a soft voice, "Could you at least keep little details about us to yourself? They don't need to know everything."

"Oh, you mean like that thing I do with my tongue?" he asked, sticking out his tongue for effect. His girl flushed for a brief moment, and it was enough to get him riled up. Maybe they had time for a quickie in Kleo's storage room..

Betty leaned into his chest and tilted her head up to whisper, "...Do want me to tell them about the way you beg? Or how you can't even last a minute when I do that thing with _my_ tongue?"

Hancock cleared his throat. "-Gotcha, Birdie."

Nick and Fahrenheit glanced at each other with amused smiles. Betty had guts.

"Thank you," and she pecked the corner of his growing smile. Fuckin' tease...he loved it.

A crash and a roar outside the gates of Goodneighbor brought everyone to a standstill, Hancock and Fahrenheit reaching for any nearby weapons. The ghoul walked towards the bright blue entrance to town and when Betty went to follow, Fahrenheit grabbed her wrist and yanked her behind Kleo's counter.

"Don't get any ideas. If anything happened to you, he'd lose it," Fahrenheit whispered. "Let him be the boss here in town. We both know who holds his leash now."

Betty frowned and replied, "I'm not trying to hold him back, you know."

"Whatever you just whispered to him that wiped the smart-ass grin from his face...keep it up. I'm glad you two ended up together," said Fahrenheit with a laugh. She threw an arm around Betty's shoulder and kissed the side of her face in a very Hancock-esque manner before she gave Betty a squeeze. "If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll wipe you from existence."

Betty looked up at Hancock's bodyguard, who smiled at her and she returned the caring gesture. "I..have no idea what you're talking about."

There was another crash, along with a grunt of pain and deep, rumbling laughter.

"Strong hope we find milk of human kindness, soon," said a rough voice. "So much walking. Want to do more fighting!"

"I'll find you some freakin' milk, just get in here before we get shot, you idiot!" shouted MacCready from beyond the gate.

"You all right, kid?" Hancock called out, silencing the bit of chatter in the streets.

The mercenary opened the door with his shoulder and threw his pack and sniper rifle near Hancock's boots before he reached through the doorway and pulled on a massive, green arm. "Yeah, doin' great. Can't you tell? "

"...New friend there, RJ?" Hancock asked. "Thought you and the reporter were doing well enough."

RJ pulled on the super mutant's arm and groaned, "We are-" He dropped the arm to the ground with a thud and asked, "You think so, too?"

"That I do, kid. Ain't put Goodneighbor to shame yet."

An equally massive green head poked over MacCready's shoulder, almost knocking him to the ground and the super mutant said, "Scrawny human help Strong escape. Flint was weak leader. Scrawny human says there are better leaders, says he will help Strong find milk."

The young merc leaned against the creaking metal wall and explained, "Was comin' back from bringin' Piper home, and I stopped by this one building so I could check my rifle. It's been shootin' a little off lately, and I wanted to-"

"-Hurry it up, kid," snapped Hancock. "Patience is waning."

MacCready pulled at the super mutant's arm with all his strength but the beast simply couldn't fit through the door. "I overheard a distress call on the radio and went after it. Only I didn't know this giant would be on the other end of it with some loser trying to teach him to read poetry or some shi-crap."

"Milk is secret to humans!" shouted the super mutant, who called himself Strong. "Mack Beth say milk make humans strong. Stronger than super mutants! Strong find milk. Drink milk. Make super mutants stronger than humans!"

Betty erupted with laughter and said to Nick, "Pretty sure that super mutant is trying to quote Macbeth. _Now_ I've seen everything."

Valentine laughed and said, "Not the worst adventure if you ask an old timer like me."

Hancock held out his fist to Strong and said, "You play nice, you can stay."

"No playing, Strong fight!"

"Then you fight nice, you hear me?" Hancock said, his voice dark. He held out his fist again and this time, Strong knocked his own great fist against it. "Good boy. Climb over the gate, there. Your big ass won't fit through my front door."

The town watched in silence as the great beast attempted to lumber over the wall. After a single try, Strong chose to ram through the gates instead and sent them crashing at Hancock's boots. Betty walked out from Kleo's storefront and stood beside Hancock to gaze at a breathing super mutant up close.

"God damn it," the ghoul said under his breath. He looked to the mercenary who crushed his hat in his hands and said, "This is goin' on your new tab, you know."

"I know," MacCready replied with a grim face.

Betty pat her friend's shoulder and added, "Better mend the fence, too."

"Thaaanks Bets," he muttered.

The ghoul nodded and pointed to the super mutant, "Strong, right? You run with me now. They call me Hancock."

Strong shoved MacCready aside and picked up Betty with both of his hands, his large fingers wrapped around her arms. He sniffed the top of her head several times before he stared into her eyes. She didn't move an inch for fear of agitating Strong.

Hancock reached for his magnum and MacCready moved to stop him. "He did the same thing to me, it's all right."

"Human smell tough, like new, tiny leader. This human can help find milk," said the super mutant before he set Betty down. Strong grabbed Hancock's hat and inhaled deeply before he slammed it back on the ghoul's head and said to her, "Human smell like leader, choose strong ghoul for mate. Wise."

"Ain't as dumb as ya look," said Hancock with a laugh. Strong bent down and when he was eye to eye with the ghoul, both of their faces hardened. Even Betty took a step away from the potentially explosive pair. "Tryin' to challenge me already? You won't live another fuckin' second."

Strong let out a low growl and said, "Ghoul good fighter, good leader. Ghoul help Strong. Super mutants are brothers. Brothers share all. Ghoul shares like brother. Super mutants fight. Kill, not talk. Ghoul talk but will kill. Ghoul would be good super mutant."

Hancock cracked a smile and assured Strong, "You'll do plenty of killin' for me, brother."

* * *

Betty and Hancock stood at the edge of the Glowing Sea. Despite being arid and desolate, it didn't seem too deadly in Betty's eyes. She'd never seen such a vast expanse of land devoid of trees or life, but as far as deadly pits of doom, this seemed like a walk in the park.

"You'd think a place like this wouldn't be so damn dull...needs a bar," said Hancock.

"It's not as bad as everyone made it out to be," said Betty, her power armor giving her voice a metallic twang.

Almost as if the Glowing Sea was waiting for someone to be doubtful of its danger and power, the sky grew dark with a green haze and the thunder and lightning began to rumble overhead from the southwest.

"Now you did it," said the ghoul and he nodded towards the angry skies. "Pissed someone off up there."

"Great. Just fucking great," muttered Betty.

Hancock held out his hand to her and said, "C'mon love, helluva lot of walkin' in our future and when the storm really hits, we don't want to get separated."

The rain begin to fall, gently at first before it come down in great torrents. Betty squeezed her ghoul's hand and when she glanced down at him, he was drenched to the bone.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I hate doing this to you."

Hancock chuckled and said, "All the rads a ghoul could ask for. Warm, too, so don't worry. Wish there was a way to see around those rocks ahead..easy to hide behind for an attack."

Betty dropped to one knee before she said to him, "Climb up. If I could drag the mirelurk queen carcass out of the Castle on my own wearing this, I'm sure I can carry you on my shoulder."

Her ghoul smiled as he climbed up to her shoulders and when Betty stood back up, he could see much further ahead.

"There's a radiated pool of water up ahead." Hancock motioned for Betty's assault rifle and peered through the scope before he added, "At least twenty ferals around it, holy shit."

Hancock handed back her assault rifle but she shook her head and said, "We'll switch for now. You can use the scope to scout ahead. I should get used to a shotgun anyway."

The journey itself was long and arduous. The Glowing Sea proved to be the stuff of nightmares, what Betty feared the world would be like when she first opened her eyes after leaving the vault. Even the few creatures who called the vast expanse home were not to be trilled with. The sight of two albino radscorpions dueling over territory with lightning-quick jabs of their poisonous, foot long stingers was enough for Hancock suggest that they go around and "Get the fuck out of here." At one point, Betty teetered on the edge of a concrete slab and nearly fainted when she realized she was standing on the roof of a factory that was almost completely buried by the fallout. It seemed where ever they looked, there was no sign of the scientist.

After walking for almost an entire day, the rad storms eased and a faint glow appeared on the horizon.

"Can you see anything from up there?" Betty asked Hancock.

He peered through the scope and replied, "Nothin'. Still too far. You said you hunted with your dad before the war, right? What should I be on the lookout for?"

"Out here? I can't imagine anyone surviving without protection, so any places to hide is a start, but as we learned from the mob of ferals hiding in that church, he might not be the only living thing trying to call it home. Wind'll cover any tracks of his so we'll have to keep checking structures, or what's left of them. Caves too, but I'm not excited about those."

They reached the source of the glow as night fell and stared up at the high sides of a crater. The geiger counter on Betty's Pip-boy beeped off the charts, even at the crater's base, as she waited for Hancock to scout up ahead.

"See anything?" Betty whispered.

"Looks like a cult down there."

She scrambled up beside the ghoul and shoved him aside to get a better view of the absolute lunatics that chose to _live_ in this madness.

"Never did like cults..too organized for my tastes," said Hancock with a shrug. "Wanna take a peek?"

Betty climbed over the edge and slid down the side of the crater faster than she expected. That pond of radioactive water was coming up fast-

"John!" she yelped and the ghoul managed to grab a hold of her power armor with a loud grunt before her feet could hit the deadly water.

Hancock held on long enough for Betty to drop to safer ground and he hopped down after her. A handful of people stood around them, surprised to see wanderers in a place so harsh, before they returned to whatever held their attentions prior. Hancock waved Betty ahead, but kept a hand over the magnum on his hip just in case.

"Stop right there, strangers," said a gray-haired woman at the top of the rickety stairs as she held out her hand to stop the pair from going any further. She seemed much too young for graying hair, and the skin around her face had begun to blister and peel, a sure sign of ghoulification. "You approach Atom's holy ground. Why? State your purpose, or be divided in his sight."

Hancock reached for his pistol with a sneer until Betty rested her hand over his. "We ain't got time for cults, and you're suckin' down a lotta rads in this place," he said to her.

"I'm pretty sure I've been sucking down rads for the past two nights. Ten minutes here won't change anything," Betty replied with a smirk and Hancock turned away with a mighty laugh. She turned to the woman and said, "Sorry...but I'm not sure what you're talking about. I mean, Holy Ground? Atom? What's going on?"

"Atom reached out and touched this world, bringing his Glow to us. It remains to this day, a reminder of his promise. Infinite worlds through division," the woman explained. "I am Isolde, and I watch over the Children of Atom."

"I'm General Betty Parker of the Commonwealth Minutemen and this is my partner, Mayor John Hancock of Goodneighbor. We don't mean you any harm." Betty looked back at Hancock, who shrugged, and she asked Isolde, "But we would like to know...what is this place?"

The woman smiled and explained, "This is where we commune with Atom himself. I am surprised you survived long enough to reach it." Isolde turned to Hancock and smiled kindly. "I see Atom has already graced you with his gift to walk across all the worlds he shall create."

"Uh, yeah...sure," Hancock answered. "Fuckin' awesome bein' a ghoul, lemme tell ya."

Betty asked Isolde, "We're looking for someone named Virgil. He's here in the Glowing Sea and as you might imagine, he hasn't been easy to find."

"Virgil?" the woman replied, surprised. "Yes...we know this Virgil. What do you want with him?"

"We just need some information from him. He might be able to help us with something," Betty explained. "Something that will help me find my son."

Isolde looked Betty over for a few moments before she replied, "He has sought refuge with Atom...I would know more before I tell you where he is."

"Don't see how that's any of your fuckin' business-" Hancock began and Betty clamped her hand over his mouth and glared him into silence.

"I need his help reaching the Institute. They're the ones who kidnapped my son. They killed my late husband, tried to kill me, too. He's the best chance I have at getting my son back. Please," Betty said and she took the woman's hand. "You watch over these..children of Atom as a mother would...I'm sure you understand."

Isolde sighed and said, "I have heard of this Institute. They hide themselves, trying to avoid the power of Atom. A futile effort. In truth, this Virgil has caused some concern among my people. Some believe his presence is an affront to Atom. He has come to trade with us on a few occasions, but we've had little contact with him otherwise. It was quite clear he wanted to be left alone...but you may find him southwest of here, living in a cave. I would approach cautiously were I you. I feel he does not want visitors."

"Thank you for helping us," said Betty as she shook hands with Isolde. "If you ever need the Minutemen for anything, please ask. My men will be there to help as best as they can."

"You are kind, Wanderer, but Atom provides all we need here."

Isolde pointed beyond the Crater of Atom and the pair followed the long path back out into the Glowing Sea. It wasn't long before they could see the faintest hint of artificial light blinking from within the cave where Virgil hid himself from the world, and sleeping soundly just beyond the entrance was a savage looking deathclaw.

"Fuck me, that's a big bastard," Hancock whispered.

Betty gulped, hopeful that her ghoul wouldn't notice. Whether he did or not, now wasn't the time to take a playful jab, and he remained silent.

"We could try to sneak around him," Betty suggested.

"Still need a plan if he wakes up or follows us in...I say we just kill it. I'm quicker on my feet than you are in that armor, maybe I could-"

"-We're going in together!" she shouted without meaning to.

"You'll be the death of me, love," he said, as he shook his head with a smile. "What a way to go."

Hancock took aim with the rifle as the deathclaw woke up with a snort, looking about before letting out a ferocious roar when it laid eyes on the strange pair. He squeezed the trigger and emptied an entire clip into the creature's hip and side as it struggled to its feet and lunged for the ghoul. Betty shoved Hancock out of the way and the great beast crashed into her instead. She stayed on her feet, the deathclaw pushing back against the weight of her power armor with a snarl.

Betty slammed her helmet into the beast's jaw and it reared back before it lashed out at her with its razor sharp claws, shattering pieces of armor off her frame.

"Quit huggin' him and kill the bastard already!" Hancock bellowed as he rushed up and stabbed the deathclaw several times in its soft underbelly. He ducked back, away from a wayward swipe of the deathclaw's hand. The creature turned, the ghoul's raspy voice catching its attention. "Aw, shit!"

"Up the cliff face!" Betty screamed as she grabbed the deathclaw's tail and dug her heels into the dusty ground.

Hancock turned on his heel as the deathclaw swiped at him again and scrambled up the rocky outcroppings beside the cave. The beast lumbered behind him and Betty made a grab for a spike on its back, and it carried her several yards off the ground as it gave chase.

Betty reached out for the deathclaw's left horn and yanked it toward her, forcing its grip loose. They toppled down the cliff face and came to a crash at the bottom, the weight of the power armor having broken the deathclaw's neck. The sole survivor's eyes blinked open and she laughed weakly as she sat up. Being bold was paying off.

Hancock stood at the cave's entrance, smoking a cigarette with a wide smile. Betty lifted her arms and asked him, "How awesome was _that_?"

"Never been so hard in my life," he admitted.

"You sure know how to flatter a girl," she said, her smile wide within the helmet.

Inside the cave, Betty stepped out of her power armor with a short gasp, her hair matted to the back of her neck. After wearing the armor for so long, it started to feel like an oven inside. She leaned against the metal frame as Hancock crept around the corner to take a look for any defenses.

The ghoul rushed back to Betty and shoved her towards the power armor, whispering, "Get the fuck in there, hurry! Get in!"

"I know you're there!" shouted a deep voice, and the pair froze in place. "Just take it nice and slow when you come in here...no sudden moves."

"He's a god damn super mutant." Hancock whispered. "That can't be Virgil-"

"-Why not?" Betty asked. "There's no shortage of weird and unexpected shit out here, is there?"

Betty brushed past Hancock, who followed close behind her with a scowl. The cave widened and there stood a super mutant at its center, wearing a some semblance of clothing with a pair of cracked eyeglasses perched on his wide nose.

"I know you're from the Institute," said the super mutant, "so where's Kellogg? Huh? Trying to sneak up on me while you distract me? It's not going to work! I'm not stupid, I knew they'd send him after me!"

The super mutant threw over a chemistry station with a deafening roar, yet Betty stood her ground, as did Hancock. Meeting Strong had been a god send for this moment. She had to remember to find him some milk. Maybe brahmin milk would do..

She lifted her hands and elbowed Hancock to follow suit before she said, "Easy now, Virgil. Kellogg's dead."

"Dead? He's...dead?" the super mutant asked with wide eyes. "Don't you lie to me!"

"John?" Betty asked, and the ghoul nodded before he pulled his coat open and revealed Kellogg's .44 to the super mutant. "Look familiar to you?"

" _You_ killed Kellogg?" Virgil asked Hancock.

Hancock chuckled and said, "That honor ain't mine...it was all Betty here. I watched her put a few rounds in his skull."

"Kellogg was ruthless. There's a reason why the Institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years. I knew they'd send him after me; tried to prepare for it...but I still wasn't sure I'd make it. And...and you killed him?" asked Virgil, a bit incredulous. Betty nodded. "Then what do you want with me?"

"I need to know how to get inside the Institute," she said.

Virgil shook his head a few times before he asked, "Wait..what? You can't be serious. You want to get _into_ the Institute? Are you insane? Never mind how nearly impossible that is; even if you were able to succeed it'd almost certainly end in your immediate death. What reason could you possibly have for taking that kind of risk?"

"I'm trying to find my son. They kidnapped him...well, Kellogg did," said Betty. "I'm getting him back."

"Oh. Oh no," Virgil whispered. "I had no idea..I'm sorry. The Institute has taken people from the Commonwealth in the past. If your son is one of them, I can understand why you'd want to get in there. I can help...but I'll need something in return-"

"-Name it," said Betty. "You help me, and I'll help you."

Virgil nodded and explained, "Before I was forced to leave, I was working on a serum to reverse this mutation. It could return me to normal. You understand? So if you get in, I need you to go into my old office and find the serum for me. I think that's pretty reasonable, in exchange for helping you."

"More than reasonable, right, John?" Betty asked. The ghoul nodded his head slowly and pointed to a bar stool.

"Please, sit," said Virgil and Hancock sat down, never taking his eyes off the mutant. If that big bastard can cure himself...Betty caught his eye and he looked away, feigning interest in a set of test tubes on the table beside him.

Virgil asked Betty if she knew how the synths enter and leave the Institute, and Betty nodded before she answered, "They use some sort of teleporter, maybe it's built into them, I'm not too sure."

The scientist nodded, impressed with her reply, and said, "Well, well...not many know about it. Closely guarded secret and all. You've certainly done your homework. It's commonly referred to as the 'Molecular Relay.' I don't understand all the science behind it, but it works. De-materializes you in one place, re-materializes you in another...I'm sure it sounds crazy, but it _is_ a reality. The Relay is the only way in and out of the Institute. You understand? The _only_ one."

Betty's mouth was a tight line across her face as she nodded, and Hancock rubbed the back of her neck. It never got any easier for them and she wondered if that day would ever show itself.

"That means you're going to have to use it," Virgil continued. "Now, have you ever seen an Institute Courser?"

Betty shook her head and when Virgil looked at Hancock, the ghoul shook his head as well and said, "If we did, we didn't know it."

"If you two are still breathing, then you haven't seen one. A Courser is an Institute synth, designed for one purpose: to hunt. Operations go wrong or a synth goes missing, a Courser is dispatched. They're very good at what they do...and you're going to have to kill one."

"Point us in the right direction and it's done," said Hancock. "We'll leave right fuckin' now and bring one back by tomorrow."

Virgil chuckled and said, "Well, I suppose your enthusiasm counts for something. Every Courser has special hardware that gives them a direct connection to the Relay in the Institute. It's embedded in a chip inside their heads. You need that chip."

"Won't be the first time I've ripped something out of someone's head," said Betty. Virgil tilted his head and she laughed before she explained, "That's how we found out about the teleportation. I ripped out some of Kellogg's brain and used it to look into his memories."

"You are a force to be reckoned with it seems," said Virgil. "As far as where you can find a Courser, I am not too sure. The Institute hasn't sent any after me yet, and sitting here waiting doesn't seem like a good plan. I do know the primary insertion point-"

-Hancock coughed out a laugh and nearly fell from the bar stool. Betty tried to shush him but his laugh always made her laugh and she couldn't stop herself.

"-Just ignore him, he's not all there," said Betty with a grin. "You were saying?"

"The Coursers enter and leave the Relay primarily in the ruins of CIT, directly above the Institute. You two will want to head there. Now, the Relay causes some pretty heavy interference all across the EM spectrum. You've got a radio on that Pip-boy, right?" Virgil asked. Hancock held up Betty's wrist and pressed a button, blasting _Atom Bomb Baby_ for a few moments before he clicked it off again. Virgil shook his head with a snort and said to Betty, "When you get to the ruins, tune it to the lower end of the band and listen in. You'll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it will lead you to a Courser. Then you have to just...not get killed."

"Hey thanks for that vote of confidence, man," said Hancock with a roll of his eyes.

"The odds are not in your favor, ghoul. Or hers. But if you do make it in, remember what I said about the serum. I need it, badly," said Virgil. He turned to Betty with a solemn frown and added, "I..I do hope you find your son."

"Thank you," said Betty. "I won't forget about your serum, I promise."

Virgil formed what resembled a smile and Betty rushed past her power armor until Hancock's shrill, piercing whistle stopped her. Her bare skin prickled at the cave's entrance and she dared to take a deep breath.

"Forgettin' somethin', killer?" Hancock asked. He watched Betty jog down the path before she climbed into the armor, and swatted her rear as the armor closed. "Not that you wouldn't make a hell of a ghoul, love."


	18. A Helping Hand

**Yes, on time! Enjoy! Thanks so much for giving it a read!**

* * *

The tail-end of the journey coming back from the Glowing Sea was tortuously long for Betty. Hancock hadn't said much since they left Virgil's cave and the ghoul remained perched on her right shoulder, silent as he peered through the scope. Besides the rare moments when deep sleep finds him, it was the quietest Hancock had ever been around Betty. Even her few attempts at idle chat were met with grunts, shrugs, or one word replies. A little unnerving, to say the least, but she was never much of a quitter.

"Whatever's been on your mind for the past eight hours, spill it," said Betty. "I might actually go mad over the silence."

"It's nothing to worry about," said Hancock. Man, was he ever grateful no one could read his innermost thoughts, even Betty, as much as he enjoyed sharing with her. He knew this specific serum wouldn't work on him, but if Virgil could create something to ease or cure ghoulification, Hancock wouldn't be the only one to take advantage of it. Hell, maybe it could help ferals. Definitely something to ponder over.

"If that was my answer, you wouldn't let me drop it. Also, I'm pretty sure I know what's making the wheels in your head spin so fast, I just...don't know how to bring it up. I was hoping you would," Betty said with a frown.

Hancock lifted the assault rifle to his shoulder once more and replied, "Less than a half-mile and we should be outta this shithole."

The ghoul hopped down from Betty's shoulder and stretched his arms above his head with a loud grunt. He turned and handed Betty her assault rifle and as she passed him his shotgun, she said, "Virgil's serum, right? I saw your face when he spoke about it."

A soft smile appeared on Hancock's face. Seemed he wasn't the only one with an eye for details. If they weren't so new, he wouldn't think much of a little white lie, but he knew better. "I found it...interestin'. Maybe he could help a brother out, and I know I won't be the only ghoul who feels that way."

"Because you want it or because you think _I'd_ want it?" she asked.

"Both? I dunno, love. Virgil says he can cure himself and he's a damn super mutant. Would it be too much of a reach to cure a ghoul? Makes someone like me think about certain things..like the fact that as much as I don't wanna think about it, there's gonna come a time when you leave this world..and I'll still be around."

Betty took off her helmet and said, "There _is_ another option, one that you mentioned, actually."

"We ain't outta the Sea yet, put the helmet back on, please," said Hancock, ignoring her train of thought. Why the fuck did he have to go and say she'd make a good ghoul? Of course she'd go for it.

"What was it you said...oh, that's right, 'Not that you wouldn't make a helluva ghoul.' Right?"

This wasn't the first time Betty thought of the future..one without her in it. The thought often crept into her mind just before she'd drift off into sleep in Hancock's arms. Suddenly, thirty or forty years with him didn't seem like enough of a lifetime.

"That ain't the life for ya," he replied with a growl. "You turn ghoul, whatever respect you've earned from the people gets thrown out, and you gotta start all over. No fuckin' dice. Put the damn helmet back on."

Betty laughed and her helmet still wedged beneath her arm, she walked ahead and Hancock followed close behind. She glanced at him with a grin and said, "I didn't expect you to tell your girlfriend what she can or can't do."

A lone, feral reaver staggered up a low hill on Betty's left and when it focused its dead, soulless eyes on her with a strangled shriek, she lobbed her helmet at it and knocked its head clean off.

"I think I'm all right without the helmet for the rest of the trip, don't you?" Betty asked. "Maybe I'll get a few more rads in me."

"You want some rads in ya, I can help with that, but just 'cause I said you'd make a helluva ghoul don't mean you gotta go running naked through the Glowing Sea...as fuckin' hot as that'd be." Hancock snorted with laughter as he jogged over to pick up the helm and added, "And as your steady, I'd like to think I have some say in your life, as ya do with mine."

Hancock held out the blood smeared helmet and Betty said, "You always have a say. I love you, and I love who you are _right_ _now_."

He smiled. "And I love you. Put the fuckin' helmet on."

Betty ripped the helm from his rough hands and smiled before she ran ahead, helmet tucked under her arm. Hancock tore after her, her loud laughter echoing around them.

"All the rads a girl could ask for!" she shouted over her shoulder.

"God damn it," he muttered to himself. "The fuck have I done?"

Of course Hancock wanted Betty by his side for the rest of his days. Life would be pretty shitty without her in it, and the thought of putting her body in the ground as they did with Nate made him want to shoot up every vial of med-x he could get his hands on. He couldn't let her turn, though. No guarantee that she'd even live through the ordeal, unless she was young and healthy to begin with. That would mean attempting to turn her within the next few years. Even an avid gambler like himself wouldn't go for those odds. If she croaked trying to turn for him, he'd never forgive himself, much less keep living. The only viable solution left in his eyes would be to find a cure for himself. That, they had time for.

When they arrived at the edge of the Glowing Sea, Betty skidded to a stop beside a ruined convertible, lungs burning. The power armor opened with a loud hiss before she threw herself across the hood of the car, arms and legs splayed out. Jesus, it was hot in that thing. A few minutes later, Hancock slowed to a shuffle and he circled around the car, never taking his eyes off of Betty.

"And to be honest, I don't know if I could screw a human version of you," Betty said when he passed her on her left. "It'd feel like cheating."

"Used to be a looker, you know," he murmured. "I think Nicky has some pictures of us before I turned. We should ask."

She laughed and replied, "I think you're a looker already. Might be a crime to be the most handsome man in the Commonwealth."

The ghoul laughed and said, "I wonder if that's why I spent so much time with Diamond City security back in the day."

"I'm sure it had nothing to do with that chem cartel you ran. You want to wear that shit for a little while?" she asked him as she nodded towards the armor. "It's a god damn oven in there and after being inside it for almost two whole days, I never want to see it again. I'd owe you."

Two days? That was _way_ too much time away from the warmth between her legs. Hancock dropped his pack and shotgun beside the car and stood between Betty's knees with a smirk as his hands drifted over her thighs. Why the hell did she even bother wearing clothes around him? "I don't mind takin' it off your hands for a couple of hours, love."

"You're too good to me," she said with a sigh as his hands roamed further up her legs.

Once Hancock reached the waist of her pants, he tugged at the buttons until they became undone and pulled them down to her knees. Underwear, too? Jesus, he really should've brought up the perks to freeballin' it. Like getting railed at a moment's notice.

"Nothing's ever easy for us, is it?" she asked before she bit down on her lip as he brushed the pad of his thumb over her sweet spot a few times. She smiled up at the sky as he pulled her underwear aside and gave her a long, slow lick between her legs.

Hancock's combat knife appeared in his hand, the steel catching the last bit of light as the sun began to set, and he cut away the thin barrier of bastard fabric keeping him from the holiest of holies. "Sometimes, we get lucky."

* * *

The ruins of C.I.T. were not far off as the morning sun began to rise for a new day. Hancock was enjoying his time inside Betty's power armor perhaps a bit too much. The ghoul leveled a small, decrepit house over a pair of wounded raiders after he insisted that crashing through the walls of the foundation was their best course of action. It took Betty over a half hour to dig him out of the rubble when her Pip-boy caught a distress signal.

 _"This is Scribe Haylen of reconnaissance squad Gladius, to any unit in transmission range. Our unit has sustained casualties and we are running low on supplies. We're requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge police station...automated message repeating."_

"Scribe, huh?" said Hancock as he dusted some rubble from the joints of the power armor. "That's a Brotherhood rank if I remember. Fuck 'em."

Betty frowned and suggested, "If we go in there and give them some fire support, it'll make the Commonwealth more...real to them. It'll show them that there's good people who can handle their own and lend a hand to those who need it."

He stared at Betty as if she had just grown another head and she leaned into her hip, her arms crossed. The hint of a smirk on her lips betrayed her, and Hancock knew she wasn't pissed at his refusal. Good. They didn't have to agree on everything, but he'd be damned if he was going to help those bigoted garbage cans.

"It would be the diplomatic thing to do. Think of who you're responsible for," she said.

"I am," he replied. "And I think it could bring more harm than good. The Brotherhood ain't ever gonna see ghouls or anyone who's not pure human as anything other than a blight to be wiped off this planet. They. Can. Rot."

"The Brotherhood and the Commonwealth don't have to fight, or even be allies. Maybe we can work out some sort of truce with them; 'Leave us alone and we'll leave you alone,' that sort of thing. Maybe they can help us find the Institute or even fight against them. And it'll look better if we're the ones giving forth the effort."

"You keep sayin' ' _we_ ' and I'm still sayin,' no fuckin' way."

Betty nodded and said, "All right. As General, I think this is the right move for my people..and I love you dearly, but I'm going to help them."

She ran ahead, leaping over a fallen tree as Hancock thundered behind her, his steps as heavy as Strong's. As always, she was glad they were on the same team because a pissed off Hancock in power armor seemed very much like the recipe for the worst day ever.

"Diplomatic solution or not, they can burn in Hell for all I fuckin' care," Hancock growled. "I got your back, love...no one else's."

Betty shook her head and said, "If someone needs help-"

"-God damn it, yes, we help 'em but that don't mean I gotta like it. Good thing I'm wearing this armor. Wouldn't put it past those assholes to shoot me on purpose," said Hancock.

"I hope you know that if the Brotherhood was ever stupid enough to fuck with you, I'd raze them to the ground myself."

"You tryin' to get me hard again or save those idiots? Can't have both, talkin' like that," he said with a grin.

Betty and Hancock ran up the broken, splitting tarmac that led to the police station. A perimeter had been set up, but a few barriers couldn't stop a horde of over thirty feral ghouls from crashing through. It was a living nightmare; the ferals tore at whatever their vicious hands could grab a hold of, including a young Brotherhood soldier who was overwhelmed by several reavers and disemboweled not even ten feet away from Betty. It was hard to believe that every single feral ghoul driven to madness from radiation was once a normal human being. The pair bumped fists before they unleashed a little hell of their own, with Betty emptying a clip into several ferals rushing towards an injured soldier on the steps of the station, and Hancock plowing through a small group of the creatures with perfectly placed head shots from his shotgun.

The only Brotherhood member clad in power armor glanced at Betty and her heavily armored partner with genuine shock and shouted, "Civilians in the perimeter! Check your fire!"

A few ferals backed Betty against a steel barrier and if it weren't for her assault rifle blocking some of the blows, she'd be a goner. One managed to tear at her forearm and she shouted out in pain. Hancock bashed through the madness and grabbed Betty's good arm before he pulled her onto his shoulders. She stood up at full height and took aim once more, Hancock's armored hand clamped down around her boots to hold her steady as the Brotherhood soldiers stared for a moment in awe.

The scribe tumbled to her feet in a vain attempt to protect the injured soldier on the steps and a pair of ferals lunged for her. They fell to her boots, dead from a shotgun blast on Hancock's behalf, and he stood over the fallen soldiers until the fight ended as suddenly as it began. He reached out and pulled the scribe back on her feet as the other soldier glared at the stranger in power armor.

"We appreciate the assistance, civilians. But what's your business here?" asked the armored Brotherhood member.

Hancock reached up and took Betty's hand before she slid down from his shoulder and stood at full height behind her with his shotgun ready to blast the faces off of any Brotherhood soldier foolish enough to challenge them. Power armor had a way of making anyone feel twenty feet tall.

"We're just trying to survive out here, like everyone else," said Betty in a careful tone.

"The way you two charged in and engaged those ferals, I find that a bit difficult to believe. Are you from a local settlement?" asked the soldier.

"...I guess you could say that. We look after a fair amount of them. I'm General Betty Parker, of the Commonwealth Minutemen."

The injured man on the staircase scoffed and said, "Who the hell are they?"

"A militia of the people," Betty said with a hint of warning. "And the muscle behind me is the king of an anarchist town, John Hancock."

She could almost feel that cocky bastard smiling right through the helmet. She didn't mind adding to his ego now and again, especially when it was so well deserved.

"Hmm..I didn't expect any show of leadership out here. If I appear suspicious, it's because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we've been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use a couple of extra guns on our side," said the soldier. He stuck out his hand and said, "I'm Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys."

"We know who you are," said Betty. She shook his hand with a firm grip but when the soldier offered the same gesture to Hancock, all he received in return was a cold, metallic stare.

Paladin Danse nodded and continued with, "We're on recon duty but I'm down a man and our supplies are running low. I've been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal's too weak to reach them."

The soldier giving aid to the fallen stood up and she said, "Sir, if I may?"

"Proceed, Haylen," said the paladin with a nod.

"I've modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I'm afraid it just isn't enough. What we need is something that can boost the signal," explained the scribe.

"Our target is Arc-Jet systems, and it contains the technology we need...the Deep Range Transmitter," said Danse. "We infiltrate the facility, secure the transmitter and bring it back here. So what do you say? Willing to give the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?"

Betty looked back at Hancock for a moment before she replied, "I don't know about helping the Brotherhood..but we'll help _you._ Let's get moving."

The paladin smiled and said, "Outstanding. Haylen, take Rhys inside and bind his wounds."

"Yes, Sir," said the scribe.

"Rhys," continued Danse, "once you're on your feet, I want you to make certain that the perimeter is secure.

"On it, Sir," groaned the injured Rhys.

"All right civilians..it's time to prove your worth. Head into the police station and resupply yourself, then let me know when you two are ready to begin. All right everyone, let's move!" Danse ordered.

Scribe Haylen chuckled as she wrapped an arm around her comrade, lifting him to his feet and said, "All right big guy, let's go."

Betty and Hancock followed Danse into the police station, with Rhys muttering angrily behind them. Scribe Haylen set him down on a sleeping bag and the soldier grunted in pain over the state of his broken ribs.

"Don't take what Knight Rhys says personally," said Danse. "He's like that with everyone."

As the Brotherhood soldiers dressed their wounds in the station's lobby, Hancock followed Betty into a corner office, where she stood before the warped, wooden desk with a wide grin.

"What's the smile for?" Hancock asked in a low voice. He closed the door behind him and stepped out of the power armor, itching to feel Betty's hand in his own.

"This was _the_ police station where I was taken after that little incident with the stolen liquor when I was a kid. And I stood right here as the police chief told me how very disappointed he was that someone like me would do such a thing," Betty explained with a chuckle.

She wiped Hancock's sweating brow with a handkerchief she found in her coat pocket and the ghoul kissed her hard. Her arm bumped against the desk as he backed her into it and she yelped, not expecting the burning pain within a feeling so passionate.

Hancock reached into his pack and handed Betty a stimpak, and she pierced her flesh just beneath a nasty gash down the length of her forearm.

"Poor bastard got ya good," he whispered as he wrapped a bandage over what remained of the healing wound, and Betty nodded before she rested her head against the warmth of his shoulder.

The door swung open, slamming into the wall behind it and Rhys leaned against the doorway with a sneer. He marched up to Betty, not giving Hancock a second look, and with his face mere inches from hers, shouted, "You think you're some kinda hotshot?"

Betty couldn't help but smirk and when Hancock shoved the barrel of his shotgun beneath Rhys' chin, her grin became a mile wide. What a fantastically stupid show of aggression.

"You're new in the Commonwealth so lemme explain somethin' to ya: It's _me_ who's the hotshot around here, asshole," said Hancock with narrowed eyes.

"DANSE, WE HAVE A GHOUL IN THE STATION! DANSE!" Rhys shouted and Hancock grabbed the front of the soldier's armor before his slammed his head into Rhys' nose.

Rhys staggered back, his nose a crooked, bleeding mess, and he threw a wild punch at the ghoul, catching him on the chin. Hancock reached down and grabbed Rhys' legs, throwing the soldier onto his back and straddled him, punching Rhys in the head several times. All Betty could do was watch as her ghoul beat the soldier's head in...Hancock never looked hotter, why the hell would she stop him? Besides, that idiot deserved to be put in place with a little bit of Commonwealth justice.

"You the only one dumb enough to fuck with us?" Hancock shouted at Rhys between punches as Danse rushed into the small room.

Before the armored paladin could react, Betty threw herself at Hancock's back and grabbed his wrists as she shouted, "All right, he's had enough!"

Danse lifted the knight to his boots and looked at the injuries to his face with a grimace. He looked back at Betty and said, "Is that why the ghoul wore the power armor? To trick us and gain access to the station? I should shoot it for that alone."

"Trust me," growled Hancock. "The only reason I'm here is because of Betty...that shithead should be lickin' at her boots outta gratitude for savin' his life. 'Sides, he's the damn fool that barged in here to get in her face. That shit doesn't fly with me, I don't give a damn who you are."

"You're nothing but hired help, and that's all there is to it!" shouted Rhys as he tried to wipe the blood away from his lips.

"Hired help or not, we get the fuckin' job _done_ ," snarled Hancock. "Can't say the same about your useless ass."

Rhys tried to go for Hancock again and the quarreling pair exchanged a few hits over the shoulders of Betty and Danse.

Betty grabbed the shoulder of Hancock's coat and backed her ghoul against the desk before she whispered, "This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I thought of diplomatic."

"Fuck politics, I'll kill that asshole."

"Not today, handsome," she whispered into his ear and it was enough to soften a bit of his rage.

Hancock scoffed and said, "Gonna hold ya to that one day soon."

"Rhys, you'll have to try to get along with General Parker until her business with us concludes, am I understood?" Danse asked the soldier. Rhys nodded and the paladin turned to Betty. "I don't like being lied to."

"No one lied to you. Hancock _is_ the leader of a lawless town and the power armor? I just wore that shit for two days straight in the Glowing Sea, and couldn't stand to be in it for another second. He wore it instead until we get back to my base. Is there going to be a problem now, or do you still need help?"

"We do not work with ghouls," Danse answered in a flat voice, "Even ones who manage to name themselves."

Hancock picked up his pack and shotgun before he pulled at Betty's wrist and said, "C'mon, Birdie, they're a lost cause. They wanna die here, we should let 'em."

Betty pulled out of Hancock's grasp and she looked Danse in the eye as she explained, "I'm not sure if you noticed but one, your squad here is screwed unless you get some decent help and two, I'm pretty sure the entirety of the Commonwealth isn't happy that your fellow soldiers and that gaudy balloon of yours came floating in to play hero. You want a shot at making peace? We're your best bet."

Danse was silent for a few moments before he replied, "The ghoul can come, as long as it stays away from me and you can assure it's under your control."

"Don't flatter yourself crew cut, you're not my type," muttered Hancock. He reached behind the power armor and pulled out the fusion core before he stuffed it into the bottom of his knapsack. Neither he nor Betty needed power armor to show these idiots what they were capable of.

"What's your type? Dead and bloated?" asked Rhys with a sneer.

"Why, you interested?" Hancock chuckled to himself and nodded towards Betty with a smug grin. "I prefer softer skin..and a killer rack."

Betty smiled and said, "We're ready when you are, Danse."

The paladin led the pair into the lobby and grabbed his helmet, flipping it in one hand before he clamped it onto his armor. "Follow me...and try not to lag behind."

* * *

Danse led Betty and Hancock through an alley beside the police station, mentioning that Arc-Jet Systems was only a short hike to the west. He spoke at length about how important this transmitter was that they were searching for, but Betty's mind was elsewhere and she paid him no attention at first.

"Must be near Graygarden. We should pick up later; I think we smoked all we had left our last night in the Sea," said Betty with a smirk as Hancock wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"This road should help us avoid the large packs of ferals infesting Cambridge," said Danse.

Hancock shook his head and said, "They used to be people, you know. And why stay in a place overrun with 'em? A normal person would just, I dunno, leave? Not that fuckin' difficult.."

The paladin remained silent and Betty rolled her eyes before she asked in a flat voice, "Why are you still at the station if it was getting too dangerous?"

"If it was up to me, I'd relocate my team but Scribe Haylen detected some disturbing energy readings in the area that need to be investigated," Danse explained to her. "We don't know much about them except that they're short-lived and broadcast on a frequency only obtained with a high level of technology. We're concerned that whoever...or whatever is creating those energy readings might be a potential threat, so it's our job to investigate."

Her stomach dropped and Hancock whispered in her ear, "Let's kill 'em right now, before they find out-"

-She shook her head and reached by her shoulder to hold Hancock's hand, examining his torn, bloody knuckles before planting a kiss onto his palm. "You sure gave him hell over some lip. How very dashing of you."

"I'll take your appreciation in blowjob form later," he replied without missing a beat and Betty laughed into the sleeve of his drifter coat.

Danse turned and pointed his laser rifle at Hancock, "That's not how you talk to women, ghoul."

"It's how I talk to _my_ woman, so quit cockblockin' me and fuck off!" Hancock snapped.

The paladin took a step toward Hancock and Betty popped up between them, a hand on either of their chests as she said, "Danse, you're overstepping. It's all right; Hancock and I are-"

"-You must be joking," scoffed Danse.

"Did you hear me fucking laugh?" she asked. Danse didn't answer her, a bit disgusted at the thought of a human and ghoul together. "If you drop the judgmental shit that has nothing to do with you or the Brotherhood, we can go get that transmitter your squad needs so badly. Stop being a damn prude and come on."

Hancock roared with laughter over his shoulder at the paladin as Betty took his hand and pulled him forward with her head held high. How Hancock dealt with this for over ten years, she had no idea. And Daisy, being pre-war, must be some sort of saint to take such abuse for over two centuries. This world certainly needed some help.

"Few raiders up ahead..you wanna or should I?" Hancock asked Betty as they came to a brief stop.

Danse stood almost ten feet behind the pair, and every time the soldier glanced at them, he shook his head with disappointment. General Parker was the most capable and impressive Commonwealth citizen he'd met so far during the recon mission, and the fact that she _chose_ to not only partner with, but have relations with _that thing..._ it made the paladin question her mental state.

Betty lifted her assault rifle to her shoulder and counted four raiders hanging around beneath a small overpass. Half a clip of explosive hell later, pieces of their bodies were strewn about and the trio sauntered past safely.

"How does the Brotherhood find the Commonwealth?" Betty asked over her shoulder, trying to make some sort of pleasant conversation.

To Hancock, it was all bullshit.

"It might surprise you to learn that my recon team isn't the first to visit the Commonwealth. Over the last seven years, two other teams were sent here by the Brotherhood to gather technology. The first team's mission was a huge success; they came back with crates full of pre-war artifacts and historical documents. Second team wasn't so fortunate. Shortly after they arrived, we lost contact and haven't heard from them since. As far as my team goes, we lost four good men to this godforsaken wasteland. We've been a target from the moment we arrived," the soldier explained.

"I'm sure it doesn't help that the Brotherhood isn't exactly the most...discreet organization," said Betty. "You know..with the giant, floating fortress."

Danse showed a hint of a smile and added, "Despite all our setbacks, I don't intend to give up and head home...or end up missing."

Hancock lit two cigarettes, handed one to Betty and with great mental effort, turned and held out the pack of smokes to Paladin Danse with a raised brow.

"No," said Danse. "Why would I purposely ingest poison?"

"Oh my fuckin' god," Hancock muttered under his breath. Why did he even bother? He and Danse would never see eye to eye on anything. A part of him was pissed that Betty got them roped into this mess, but he knew she meant well. It didn't help that she smiled up at him with those eyes of hers...god damn it.

Betty pat his arm and whispered, "That was a good try."

"Don't you patronize me-" he growled.

"-I wasn't." She kissed his cheek and suggested, "Danse might lighten up after he gets his hands on that transmitter thing. You never know...and at least he answered you directly this time."

"Hold on, lemme get a fuckin' parade goin' for our up and comin' lifelong friendship."

The Brotherhood soldier followed close behind and said in a low voice, "It's..around the bend here. There shouldn't be any exterior security, so we'll head in through the front."

The Arc Jet building seemed unimpressive and nothing out of the ordinary as Hancock looked around for defenses..he couldn't trust what that meathead had to say about the place. He opened the double doors for Betty, who curtsied before walking beneath his arm and followed after her, allowing the doors to slam shut in Danse's face.

The paladin burst through the doors, muttering under his breath. Arc Jet's lobby had seen better days; it appeared as if a mini nuke were set off inside with the way the furniture, papers, and machines were thrown about.

"It was corporations like this that put the last nail in the coffin for mankind. They exploited technology for their own gains, pocketing the cash and ignoring the damage they'd done. The military and soldiers were the worst of it, of course, pushing for even more technology to fight with," said Danse, breaking the brief silence as he walked about the room.

Betty stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the back of Danse's power armor. It took every bit of strength she had to not shoot the paladin in the back of the head. Instead she curled her fists and brushed past the soldier, knocking him into a doorway as she went down the hallway on her own.

Paladin Danse didn't understand why Parker seemed upset at his comment, until the ghoul spoke up and said, "She's pre-war, asshole. Frozen in a fuckin' vault with her family after the bombs fell."

"We have no records of a vault within the Commonwealth using cryogenics-" Danse began to say.

"-Vault 111, check it out. Surprised ya didn't hear about it on the radio; Travis talks about us a helluva lot. Her late husband was murdered in said vault..and he was a military boy too, so you struck her twice." Hancock walked up to Danse and only a foot a space remained between them when he added, "Normally, I'd carve you up real nice for such low blows, but you're just some ignorant fuckin' prick and it'll only serve to upset her more."

"How was I supposed to know?" Danse asked.

Hancock laughed and answered, "Man, you don't know _shit_ about anyone or anything here! You really think that some 'research' and lootin' is gonna tell ya how life is for us? The Commonwealth ain't perfect, but we were doin' all right before you armor jockeys showed up to try and boss us around. We don't need the Brotherhood..Betty is who we need. And mark my words, when all this shit blows over, General Betty Parker will be better known as the First Lady of the Commonwealth."

The Brotherhood soldier didn't know what to make of this particular ghoul. It was violent, unstable, crass, and rude as Danse expected of a sentient ghoul. What he didn't expect was the hint of softness to the ghoul's raspy voice when it spoke about Parker. The way it beamed back at her whenever she smiled. The protective streak. It was almost human..

"...I should apologize, then."

"Yeah, you should. Now get the fuck outta my way," Hancock said before he went down the hall after his girl.

Betty sat behind a metal desk in a room filled with ruined and shattered protectrons as she stared blankly at a terminal. Nate wasn't a monster. It was Nate who demanded of his commanding officers that POWs be treated humanly and with dignity. He always tried to convince the enemy to surrender before firing upon them. War was ugly, that she knew, but Nate didn't have a cruel bone in his body.

"Whoa, Danse really pissed you off...knew I should've cut his ass," said Hancock as he stepped into the remains of the protectron massacre.

"I can't take any credit," she said, resting her chin on her hand. "Was like this when I came in. But thanks for not cutting him."

Hancock kissed the top of her head and asked, "You okay, sunshine?"

"I just want to get this over with now..I should've listened to you."

"Not your fault we're surrounded by morons."

"I heard that, ghoul," said Danse as he entered the room.

Hancock grunted and replied, "Good. Least you're not deaf AND dumb as shit."

The paladin grit his teeth as he bit back his insult; doing so wouldn't help his situation with Parker. The Brotherhood could use a soldier like her, especially one with as much influence as the ghoul claims she has.

"Parker..I apologize for my comment about pre-war military earlier. I had no idea until the ghoul told me. I'm sorry about your loss," said Danse as he lowered his head.

Betty looked at Hancock with tired eyes and asked, "I think he meant it. You?"

Her partner nodded and Betty held out her fist to Danse, who returned the gesture and bumped her knuckles with a grin.

"Oh," Betty added as she stood up, "That's his town's custom, by the way. All the heathen ghouls and ghoul lovers do it."

"Sorry Danse," said Hancock. "You might as well have sucked me off."

The paladin pulled his hand back in horror and dry heaved by the doorway as Hancock sank to his knees, overcome with laughter and he buried his face on Betty's hip. She rested her hand on Hancock's shoulder and laughed herself until she was red in the face.

"Serves you right. You were acting like an ass back there," said Betty and Hancock laughed again.

Danse let out a sharp breath and looked over the room once again. "Well, the facility's automated security's has already been dealt with."

"Good, less security to get in the way," said Hancock.

"Negative. There's nothing good about it. Look at the evidence. Not a single spent ammunition casing or drop of blood in sight. These robots were assaulted by Institute synths."

"We'll be on the lookout, captain," said Hancock with a roll of his eyes.

"It's _paladin,"_ said Danse.

"Whatever, man."

The trio walked down a set of hallways, the small rooms and offices leading off from them having been raided long ago. Hopefully, the transmitter remained. They came to a halt in a large, bright room with a set of doors that were locked tight.

"Looks like a dead end," said Danse as he pulled on one of the handles. "See if you can find a way to get these doors open. I'm going to reconnoiter the area."

Hancock dropped his knapsack by Betty's boots as she studied the lock and sifted through the pack until she found her screwdriver.

"Can ya pick it?" he asked Betty. She carefully stuck a bobby pin from her hair into the lock and fell back with a yelp when she was zapped by a short surge of power. "Jesus, you all right?"

"Can't-" Betty coughed, a bit of wind knocked from her lungs and she managed to say, "pick it, but I'm totally fine."

Danse walked over to her and took her chin in his hand to check her pulse beneath her neck before he said, "She'll be all right. Heart rate's already going down."

When he and Hancock met eyes, the ghoul pulled a combat knife from his belt and dragged the honed edge along the skin of his throat. Danse held his stare but understood the ghoul's message: Touch her again and there'd be Hell to pay.

Betty staggered to her feet and leaned against the locked set of doors. "John?" she asked. "Check those terminals for me, please? One of them must unlock this."

Hancock tapped a few keys on a terminal at the center of the room and the screen lit up. "Askin' for a password, shit.." and he began to rifle through the few drawers in the desk. "Maybe this guy was stupid enough to write it down somewhere."

"I'll check this one," she said as she walked over to another terminal against the wall. "Here, I can make a new password."

"Read it off to me, Birdie."

"All right, all uppercase: B-O-O-T," she barked out a laugh and said, "Y."

"Are you for real?"

"I'm serious, that's the password!"

Hancock chuckled and tapped the enter key. "Heh, awesome."

Danse nodded and said, "Nice work, let's get mov- synth ambush! Light 'em up!"

The metal doors slid open and a sizable group of synths flooded into the room, almost too overwhelming for three wastelanders.

"Our fuckin' pleasure!" Hancock shouted with a feral grin. He grabbed a synth by the wrist and twisted himself and its arm behind it before he forced its laser pistol on several of its fellow cohorts. When the gun ran out of ammunition, the ghoul yanked downward and hip-shot the synth in the head with his magnum.

Danse took on three synth patrollers at once, his laser rifle hot and deadly. There was no doubt the paladin was a formidable soldier on the battlefield. He threw a synth on its back before he stomped down on its metal rib-cage with a sickening crunch of his armored boot.

Betty climbed onto a desk and aimed for any stragglers going in for a kill on Hancock or Danse. Every shot of her assault rifle sent wave after wave of fiery heat and the sound of all the discord was deafeningly loud.

"Force them back!" she shouted over the roar of bullets and laser beams.

The synths were pushed back into a small generator room, where a gap in one of the walls still crumbled with just-disturbed dust.

One of Betty's shots singed the sleeve of Hancock's dark coat and he waved her ahead. "Go get 'em, Killer! Go! Go!" He swatted at her rear as she ran ahead. Danse closed his eyes with a wince and Hancock said, "Man, you need to get laid..Or take that stick outta your ass. Whatever's easier...so I'd go with the stick in your case."

"You're disgusting," said Danse as he took aim for a synth on the second floor of the next room.

"Definitely the stick."

Hancock charged after Betty, who was in the midst of a shootout with several synths on the second floor, pinned into a corner. He shouldered through the group of synths and shoved two synth patrollers onto the lower floor, where Danse finished them off. The ghoul followed with three shots of his .44 and he held out his hand to his girl.

"How the hell do you always find yourself in these tough spots?" Hancock asked Betty as he pulled her to her feet, brushing some of the dust off her legs.

"I was doing fine," she replied. "You just like playing hero."

Hancock laughed and Danse waved them over. The pair followed the soldier up a few flights of stairs before he checked around a corner of a new set of hallways and said, "Remain vigilant. We've got turrets up ahead."

Betty reached into several pockets on Hancock's drifter coat before she wrapped her hand around what she'd been searching for. She pulled the pin from a pulse grenade and lobbed it down the hall, stunning the turrets and allowing Danse to pick them off with ease.

The pair continued to follow the soldier through the building and Danse said over his shoulder, "Engine core's up ahead. Should be our last stop."

The area leading up to the engine core room was dark from lack of power and Betty tripped over a few broken tiles. Hancock, having just finished off a Jet inhaler, was able to grab the back of Betty's coat before she fell forward. And this time, he kept a firm grip on her hand.

"Look at this place!" Betty whispered in awe as the trio entered the engine core with a gargantuan rocket engine hung over the center of the room. She walked out onto a platform and reached out to touch the engine before Hancock pulled her back and shook his head.

"Our scribes would have a field day here," Danse replied as he looked around. "The transmitter should be in the control room at the top of the core but it looks like the elevators are dead. "We'll have to keep heading down for now and find a way to get the facility's power back online."

Betty switched on the light to her Pip-boy, but the light only reached maybe a foot beyond her in any direction. She glanced at Hancock and asked, "Can you see better in the dark? I can't believe I never asked you that."

He shook his head. "Vision stayed the same, unfortunately."

"There has to be a power backup system somewhere. Scout the maintenance area off the main chamber, Parker...the ghoul can go with you," said Danse. "I'll remain here and watch our backs."

Hancock followed Betty down a short hallway to the maintanence room and muttered under his breath, "Hope you get fuckin' shot.."

"John!" she whispered in a sharp voice and he grinned, not at all remorseful over his commentary.

Betty located a terminal with minimum power to it within the maintanence room and hacked into the system with relative ease.

"You'd think these eggheads would choose a better password considerin' there's a fucking rocket engine in there," said Hancock over her shoulder.

She chuckled as the Arc-Jet mainframe announced, _Engine core power restored. Thermal engine fueled, primed, and standing by for your command._

The ghoul kissed his girl and told her, "You're the hottest brain I know."

Gunshots rang out from the central chamber and the pair stared at each other for a moment before running out into the lower control room. In the central chamber, Paladin Danse was overrun by a wave of synths.

Hancock pulled at the doors but they were shut tight. He beat at the door lock with the butt of his shotgun and shouted, "We're comin' for ya, tin can! Hang on! Birdie, the god damn door's locked!"

"Do something, anything at all!" Danse shouted through the pane of glass separating them. A synth grabbed the paladin's head and smashed it against the glass, cracking it, and Betty screamed.

She looked about the room in a panic and her eyes fell upon the engine power button...for the rocket engine above Danse.

"I sure hope you're fireproof!" Betty yelled.

Danse slammed his fist into a synth and screamed, "Do it!

Betty's fist came down on the power button and a five second countdown began as Hancock broke through the first door.

 _Command accepted,_ announced the mainframe. _Commencing five second countdown..._

"John, get him!" Betty pleaded.

 _5...4..._

Hancock rushed into the hall and pulled on the door to the central chamber, only to find it locked as well.

 _3...2..._

"Fuckin' shit!" shouted Hancock. He rammed the butt of his shotgun into the window several times. "Danse!"

 _1...engine firing._

The countdown ended and the rocket engine roared with flames as hot and bright as the sun itself, engulfing the room and shattering the windows of the door, forcing Hancock to duck. The ghoul staggered back into the control room and pulled a shocked Betty away from the window there. The window blew out with a deafening shatter, sending huge shards of glass flying across the room.

Within a few seconds, the rocket died and the door to the main chamber opened with a loud click. _Test firing complete with an efficiency rating of 96.7 percent._

Betty and Hancock burst in to find Danse on his hands and knees. The ghoul made it to the Brotherhood soldier first and tore off Danse's helmet, the steel scalding his hands.

"Oh my god, are you all right?!" Betty cried.

"Got..." Danse coughed a few times, "cooked by those flames, but thanks to my...power armor I'm still in one piece. The important thing is that we're still alive...and we have a way to get to the transmitter."

Hancock clapped Danse's shoulder and said, "Whew..that was fuckin' wild! Thought we lost ya!"

"The Brotherhood of Steel is tougher than that, ghoul," said Danse.

Hancock handed Danse his helmet back and said in earnest, "That was all you, man. Not the Brotherhood, you feel me?"

The trio took the elevator to the top of the chamber and were met by more synths inside of the main control room. Danse provided cover fire as Betty and Hancock annihilated any synths withing their reach.

The synth leader focused on Hancock and rushed him, but when the ghoul took aim the trigger wouldn't shoot, and the synth leader threw him back against a wall. Betty called out his name and tossed him her assault rifle over a railing before she ducked behind a set of filing cabinets, and Hancock opened fire.

"Danse!" he shouted over the noise. "Cover Betty!"

The Brotherhood solider stomped towards General Parker and he and the ghoul finished off what remained of the attacking synths.

"Damn it," said Danse. "I don't see the device anywhere."

"Maybe one of the synths grabbed it as we came in?" Betty suggested as she peeked out from behind the filing cabinets. Several bullet holes peppered the cold metal around her and she realized that she was a hair closer to death than she had believed.

As the room settled, Hancock shoved the paladin out of the way and shouted at Betty, "You gotta a deathwish or somethin', passin' me _your_ rifle in the middle of a fight?"

"You needed a gun!" she shouted back, her hands on her hips.

Hancock held up his .44 magnum and asked, "What the hell do you call this?"

"That synth was way stronger than the others! He fucking threw you! And you thought I would just stand there and think, 'Yeah, John's fine, that synth is totally not going to beat his head in'?"

"And how many god damn times have I fuckin' asked ya not to worry about me?"

"I already lost Nate, I won't lose you, too!" she shouted, her chest heaving. She pointed to the broken synths and said, "And I've had enough of those assholes taking the people I love away from me!"

The control room fell to a quiet standstill. Danse checked the broken, lifeless synth bodies and found the transmitter tucked behind a desk at the room's center, where most of the synths had gathered. He was a bit bewildered at hearing that Parker was _in love_ with the ghoul, and wondered if the ghoul was capable of reciprocating such feelings. Even Danse himself had never been in love, for the Brotherhood was the only thing he cared for.

"..You're right, love" Hancock replied, his voice softer than before. He pulled her into his arms and murmured into her hair, "I'm sorry I didn't realize that sooner."

Betty looked over at Danse and asked him, "Did you find your transmitter?"

The paladin held up the small, gray box and said, "Got it right here. Come on, we can take the service elevator back to the surface."

Outside, night began to settle down in the Commonwealth, and the moon was coming over the horizon, full and white. Betty held Hancock's hand tight as they followed Danse away from Arc-Jet.

"Well," said the paladin over his shoulder, "that could have gone smoother, but mission accomplished. It is a refreshing change to work with capable civilians. That being said, we have two important matters to discuss."

"Oh?" Betty asked. "And what would those matters be?"

"Firstly, I'd like to compensate you for your assistance during this operation. Since you are now short a weapon, I think you'll find this one useful. It's my own personal modification of the standard Brotherhood laser rifle. May it serve you well in battle," explained Danse as he handed Betty his laser rifle along with a box of fusion cells.

"I can't take this," said Betty. "Payment isn't necessary, we just wanted to help out and maybe show you that the Commonwealth isn't as hopeless as you previously thought."

The paladin smiled warmly and replied, "I insist you keep it."

She and Hancock stared at Paladin Danse, stunned with his show of generosity.

"Now...as far as the second matter goes, I wanted to make you a proposal. We had a lot thrown at us back there. Our op could have ended in disaster, but you kept your cool and handled it like a soldier." Danse looked at Hancock and added, "And for a rotting, walking corpse, your skills were impressive as well. I was not aware a ghoul could be gifted at anything."

"Maybe rethink the whole, 'shoot first, ask questions later' wit regards to my kind," said Hancock.

Danse looked back to Betty and said, "There's no doubt in my mind that you have what it takes. Join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on this world, Parker. What do you say?"

"Oh, you're takin' ghoul fuckers into your little club now? How very progressive of you," said Hancock.

The paladin grimaced and said to Betty, "I'd advise Parker to keep that information to herself, unless she enjoys being ostracized and if you insist on following her, I need your word that you will behave appropriately..for Parker's well-being."

"No promises," said Hancock with a smirk.

"I have obligations here in the Commonwealth that need my attention, my settlements and I'm still searching for a few people. Will the Brotherhood be all right with that?" Betty asked. Danse nodded and she said, "If you can assure me that your brethren won't shoot Hancock on sight-"

"-As I stated to the ghoul, as long as his behavior is proper, he will not be harmed while he remains in your company."

Betty smiled. "All right. I'm in."


	19. Diplomacy

It was close to the ungodly hour of five in the morning when Betty awoke to Danse pounding his armored fist against the door of the late police chief's office. She looked over at Hancock, who snored on the bedroll beside her, before she shuffled over to the door and opened it with a yawn.

"Up and at 'em, Initiate. Today is a new day," said the paladin with a warm smile.

"Are we under attack?" Betty asked. "If not, come back in-" she looked down at her Pip-boy, "-three hours."

She moved to close the door, but Danse stuck out his foot and blocked it from shutting. "We've been summoned. Gather your things and that ghoul..if you must."

"It's not even five, and _I'm_ a morning person!" she said. She nodded towards Hancock and added, "Don't even get me started about him and mornings, even if he isn't hungover."

"War waits for no one," Danse replied.

"If you insist. It'll take a while to get Hancock up, though."

"You have ten minutes, soldier, or we leave without him."

Betty nodded and squatted down on the floor beside a still-snoring Hancock and shook his shoulder. "John? Time to wake up, hun."

Nothing. She looked up at Paladin Danse, who tapped on his wrist and said, "Nine minutes."

"Shit," muttered Betty. She pulled a bottle of water from Hancock's pack and threw it into the ghoul's face and he only snored even louder. She sighed and said to Danse, "Sorry, he sleeps like he's dead."

"Eight minutes."

Betty thought for a moment and said, "I have an idea...but you might want to leave the room for a second; he'll shoot anything in his sight if this works. Might want to cover your ears, too. Gonna get loud in a second."

Danse stepped aside, away from the doorway, curious as to what Parker would do next.

Betty moved behind Hancock and shook his shoulder violently as she screamed out, "JOHN, WAKE UP!" her voice in a panic.

Hancock sat up at an instant, pulled the magnum from his hip and shot off all six rounds in the chamber at the empty space where Danse had stood moments ago.

"Birdie," Hancock mumbled as he groped about for Betty with bleary, dark eyes. "The fuck is goin' on?"

Betty sat on the floor beside him, covering her mouth her hand in shock before she whispered, "Sorry handsome, Danse says we have to get going."

Hancock looked up at the paladin with a hard face and Danse smirked.

"Less than seven minutes before we leave, so I'd hurry if you insist on coming along," said Danse before he closed the door.

Hancock picked up a fan off the desk beside him and threw it at the closed door with a growl as it shattered into several pieces.

"I hate that armored asshole..and why the fuck am I soakin' wet?"

"I tried water first, but you didn't wake up this time. I'm sorry," Betty explained. Hancock waved off her apology and sorted through his pack to check their supplies. She added, "Danse _can_ be an ass, but I think he means well and he's been nice enough so far. Well, as nice as I'd expect a Brotherhood soldier to be towards citizens of the land they're invading."

"'Course he's good to ya, you're 100% human, a great fighter, and stunning to boot, who wouldn't?"

Betty snorted. "Rhys looks at me like garbage."

"Don't remind me...should've put him down when I had the chance. You gotta stop preventin' that sorta shit."

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "He's resentful is all. Two strangers come in to save the day, and one of them is a ghoul, someone he's likely been brainwashed to hate. I'd almost feel bad for him if he wasn't such a complete dick."

"Still deserved that ass kicking I served up."

"Definitely," said Betty with a laugh and kissed Hancock several times before she climbed into her power armor. After whatever Danse had planned for her today, she just wanted to get back to searching for the elusive courser who roamed the ruins near CIT. "Look, Danse just wants to get the job done, whatever it may be. We both appreciate shit like that, right? Give him a chance. He might come around."

"The fuckin' poster boy for the Brotherhood of Steel? That'll be the day." He stared at Betty and said, "Look, what I'm about to say to ya is comin' from your ally, Mayor Hancock, not your steady. You feel me?"

Betty nodded. "I understand. Shoot."

"What's your plan if they decide to screw us over? This ain't somethin' to take lightly. If they snuff me, Goodneighbor _will_ blame ya and if they snuff you instead, the Minutemen will have my damn head if I didn't die avengin' ya. Please tell me you've thought about this, 'cause once he makes ya a full-fledged member of the Brotherhood, there's no turnin' back."

"The Brotherhood is foolish, not savage," said Betty. "At least from what we've seen."

"Savage, I can deal with. It's predictable compared to foolish. We ain't leavin' until you come up with somethin' good, because we can't afford to die now. I won't allow it. Make your choice."

Betty thought hard, Hancock's words resonating in her mind, before she looked up at him and whispered, "If the Brotherhood won't listen to reason and leave the Commonwealth or remain here without any further interference...we destroy them. All of them."

"Do I have your word, General Parker?" Hancock asked as he held out his fist. "Are you loyal to us...or them?"

Her knuckles rapped hard against his and she said, "No matter what happens, know that I'll _always_ be loyal to you, Mayor Hancock, and our people. I'm no traitor."

He smiled and said, "Let's head out and give your peace talk a shot, then."

Hancock hung Betty's assault rifle over his shoulder and followed her into the police station lobby, as Danse and Scribe Haylen looked over Rhys' shattered nose.

"Sorry, Rhys," said Scribe Haylen as she checked his splint. "We're running low on stimpaks so you're stuck like this until we get back onto the ship."

The ghoul took one look at the soldier's splint and his two black eyes before he chuckled and said, "I fucked you up pretty good!"

Betty frowned, and sorted through Hancock's pack until she found a stimpak. She tossed it over to Rhys and the stimpak hit him square in the face, eliciting a pained shout from the Brotherhood soldier and Hancock erupted with laughter.

"You said we were summoned, Danse? Where are we headed?" Betty asked, her cheeks reddening as Hancock continued to laugh at her lack of a throwing arm.

"Our 'gaudy balloon', as you have referred to her before, is called the Prydwen. She's loaded with enough troops and supplies to mount a major offensive. If she's here, Elder Maxson's here, and that means we're going to war," explained Danse.

"Who the hell's Elder Maxson and why do I hate him already?" Hancock asked as he reached for the flask he kept in his back pocket.

"Maxson is the commander of the Brotherhood of Steel. He's the model of what every Brotherhood soldier hopes to become. If we're going to war, I can promise you that he'll be leading the charge," said Danse.

Hancock drained the last of the booze and said, "Oh, that explains my hatred then, thanks."

Danse shook his head and looked to Betty. "That being said, you're about to get to know the Prydwen up close and personal. I've received orders that we're to report to her immediately."

"I'm...flattered?" said Betty.

"No you ain't," muttered Hancock under his breath and she swatted his arm with the back of her hand. "If you were flattered, those cheeks of yours would be that gorgeous shade of red I've become so fond of...ya know, the same flush ya get when I stick my-"

The paladin glared hard at Hancock and said in a cold voice, "-This is your only warning from me, so listen up, ghoul. Having one of your kind on board the Prydwen is unprecedented. I'd advise that you remain beside Parker during your time there. Do not wander, do not touch anything-"

"-I want nothin' to do with you assholes, so save your breath."

Danse grit his teeth. "I'd also recommend some duct tape over that foul mouth of yours-"

"-Go fuck yourself, Danse, how's that for foul?"

Betty threw dropped Hancock's pack onto the floor and said, "Both of you, please! Can't we at least try to get along-"

"-No!" shouted Hancock and Danse in unison.

"It is _way_ too god damn early to be shouting like you're out on the playground!" shouted Betty herself. "All I ask is for you to tolerate each other and that can't possibly be a tall order for two grown men."

Danse looked at Hancock, his eyes hard. "Don't make me regret this, ghoul."

"Or _what?_ " Hancock snarled.

"John," Betty interrupted, "Haven't I trusted you since this?" and she pointed to the nasty scar across her face. He nodded and she said, "I need you to trust me. _I'm_ the one who's throwing myself into the fire with the Brotherhood and all I'm asking of you is listen to what they have to say. That's it. We'll be on our way right after, I swear it, and you'll never have to see them again if you don't want to. But I might not be taken seriously back home without you to back me up."

Hancock nodded and said, "Fine by me, but you know your men, and mine, will follow ya to Hell and back."

"If the ghoul is done with his dramatics for today, follow me up to the roof of the station...we're going for a little ride," said Danse.

"A ride?" Betty asked as she and Hancock followed the paladin up the stairs.

Danse opened the door to the rooftop access with a smile and Betty gulped at the sight of the vertibird on the launchpad.

"You expect me to ride in that?" Betty asked. "It doesn't even have doors!"

"I assure you, Parker, it's perfectly safe," said Danse.

The paladin led the pair over to the vertibird and climbed into it first. Hancock climbed aboard right behind the soldier and when the young pilot turned to salute Danse, he screamed at the sight of Hancock.

"It's all right!" Danse tried to explain as he held up his hands. "He's with our new Initiate, Parker...who I'd introduce you to if she would board already.."

Hancock reached down for Betty's hand and whispered, "I'll be right next to ya. C'mon, before Danse has a coronary."

Betty took his hand and he helped pull her onto the vertibird. They hadn't even taken off and she was already shivering inside of her armor. She thanked god at that second for helmets, because the last thing she needed was for Danse or any of the others to notice the few tears streaming down her cheeks. She'd rather get into a fist fight with Strong instead of flying in this deathtrap.

"Parker, that minigun in front of you is loaded and ready to fire. If you spot anything hostile during the flight, I suggest you put it to good use," said Danse.

Betty sat down behind the gun with some relief. It was certainly better than standing and at least she had the mounted minigun to hang onto. The vertibird engine roared to life and the rotor blades spun faster and faster until they were just a blur.

"Prepare for liftoff," announced the pilot and Betty swore she would crush the handles of the minigun in her hand.

The vertibird hovered into the air with a slight lurch and Betty threw her arms around the minigun with a sharp gasp as the aircraft soared further into the sky, her eyes squeezed shut.

Hancock hung outside of the vertibird, one hand gripped tight onto a metal bar inside the cockpit as he leaned against Betty's armored shoulder, catching the breeze with his free hand. He had to give it to the Brotherhood; they sure knew how to travel in style.

"The Commonwealth looks different from up here, doesn't it?" Hancock asked Betty as she continued to cling onto the minigun for dear life.

"I don't know, I'm not looking," she replied. "And you can't make me, so don't even bother."

"Oh c'mon, Birdie, it's fuckin' beautiful with the sun comin' up and all."

"I-I'm sure it is," she said with a groan. "Describe it to me later."

Hancock frowned and noticed the look of confusion on the paladin's face before he said to him, "She's afraid of heights."

"Don't tell him that!" said Betty.

"Why not? It's common enough and I think it's kinda cute," Hancock replied to Betty with a chuckle. "You didn't bat an eye at Virgil tryin' to scare us off, but heights make ya weak in the knees..'sides me, of course."

Danse leaned over and pat Betty's back with a glance at Hancock, who glared at the paladin as a low growl began to rumble through his chest, and Danse explained, "I was also nervous the first time I flew, but try to remember that the armor will protect you from a fall at any height and your fear will ebb somewhat."

The paladin was right. If Betty survived a fall from a two-story building in power armor her first day outside of the vault without a scratch, then it shouldn't be too difficult to at least _open her god damn eyes_..

And when Betty _did_ open her eyes, her piercing shriek of terror made everyone on board the aircraft jump a few feet into the air, including Hancock, who lost his grip on the door handle for a split second.

With a soft chuckle, he looked at Betty and said, "You'll be the death of me."

"If you keep saying that, it'll come true," she replied with a frown.

Hancock smiled and said to her, "That day comes for everyone, like it or not but if Mama Murphy's right, you and I got a few more centuries ahead of us before we gotta worry."

"More centuries for _you_ , maybe," said Betty. "It may be smooth, but this human body isn't going to last."

"Workin' on it," Hancock replied with a hand on her shoulder. "I'll find a way around that little issue but there's plenty of time until then."

When the vertibird passed over the ruins of CIT, Betty and Hancock glanced at one another, knowing that the nefarious heart of the Institute lay beneath it. Danse stood up and leaned over Betty to gaze at the ruins below them, and Hancock looked away, hoping the paladin didn't notice their interest.

"It never ceases to amaze me how drastically your perception of the battlefield changes from the air. We're going to need that edge before we take on the Institute. They've already proven that they're technologically superior, which means there's no telling what types of weapons they have in their arsenal," said Danse. "Hopefully, our air superiority and tactical know-how will make the difference."

"The Minutemen won't lay down without a fight of their own against the Institute," said Betty, her voice a tad bit stronger. "My settlers are willing to die to defend their homes..and each other."

Hancock nodded and said, "And I'd love to see the Institute come bangin' their fists at my town gates. My people would fuckin' slaughter every last one of 'em."

"I doubt it," said Danse. "The Institute would pose far too big a challenge for any town to defend themselves properly, no matter how well armed they are."

"I beg to differ, tin man. Lemme paint a picture for ya. You know who the Gunners are, or do I need to explain yet another faction of my Commonwealth to ya?" Hancock asked Danse.

The paladin scoffed and replied, "Of course I know who the Gunners are. Besides those damn ferals, the Gunners have been giving us the worst of it at the station."

"All right, so last year this young buck came to my town seekin' refuge from those merc assholes. He wanted nothin' more to do with 'em but they wouldn't let the kid go, not even when I offered 'em a small fortune to back off. So I took him in and the Gunners showed up maybe a month later. Full fuckin' assault over this damn kid, close to a hundred of these bastards rockin' my gates and screamin' for blood," Hancock explained.

"Over RJ?" Betty asked, incredulous.

Hancock nodded and explained, "He really pissed 'em off, but they were equally pissed at _me_ for breakin' some bullshit truce they made with Vic before I took over. Had no idea it even existed but it didn't matter. I wasn't givin' up the kid and they weren't comin' into my town. They did try to break through...though I'm bein' generous when I say try. Whole town rose up to fight back and in less than a day, the streets outside of town were packed with dead Gunners...and the leaders of the failed assault, Winlock and Barnes? Their mounted heads, severed by yours truly, decorated my gates until the sun bleached their skulls white. The Gunners that remain don't mess with us anymore...other folks would be wise to do the same."

The paladin nodded, a bit intrigued that the ghoul's town could hold their own against the Gunners, who were formidable in their own right. On top of that, the ghoul decided a mini war was worth waging against the mercenaries for one stranger...Danse didn't want to imagine what sort of atrocities the ghoul would commit to protect Parker.

On the ground below the vertibird, a handful raiders took a few cheap shots at the aircraft and Betty returned fire as she mowed down the small group with ease. The pilot forced the bird higher into the air and Betty gulped, forcing her eyes shut once again.

"I wished everyone down there believed in our cause but they've been blinded by rumors and misinformation," said Danse.

"You must mean those rumors that you're a bunch of racist pricks and if say, a farm or town refuses to give you food and shelter..you just take it from them anyhow," said Hancock.

"That isn't how the Brotherhood operates, ghoul," the paladin insisted.

Hancock managed to light a cigarette and said, "Ain't what I heard from folks who lived in the Capital Wasteland. Sure, you'd help those who helped you, but if someone wanted nothin' to do with ya and they weren't violent or anythin', the Brotherhood would just take their shit anyway. You never give people a choice."

Danse sat down again and said, "The people don't realize that the Brotherhood of Steel is the Commonwealth's last hope for survival."

"What a load of shit," said Hancock. "You have no faith in any of us...and yet we're expected to follow you. The Brotherhood is a fuckin' joke."

"Every man, woman, and child below is in mortal danger! If the Brotherhood fails, it's only a matter of time before the enemy overwhelms the entire population. Cleansing the Commonwealth is our duty and I will gladly spill my own blood if it ensures our victory."

Betty looked back and asked Danse, "And what if the overwhelming majority of the Commonwealth doesn't want the Brotherhood's help?"

Danse frowned and replied, "As I said, it is our duty."

"Ain't your duty," said Hancock. "That honor belongs to us and the people. But you can sit there in your flying boat and watch if ya like. Always liked performin' for an audience."

The paladin scoffed and asked, "But aren't you and Parker doing what the Brotherhood itself is attempting? Who asked you to police the people?"

Betty shrugged and replied, "They _asked_ us to. In my case, the last surviving Minuteman asked me to become General. Hancock becoming a leader is something you'd have to ask him about; it's not my place to tell you."

Danse turned to Hancock and asked him, "All right, ghoul. I'm intrigued. How did you become the leader of your town?"

"I got a name, Paladin Dick," said Hancock. "You expect conversation with me, I expect ya to use it."

Danse let out a hard sigh and asked, "How did a wretched ghoul like yourself become a leader...Hancock."

Hancock nodded and replied, "Vicious bastard named Vic ran my town 'bout ten years ago. Murdered innocents for his amusement, had people terrified enough they wouldn't leave their homes. Murdered my friends. But I was a nobody, and he didn't expect me and my boys to come in, guns blazin', before I hung him from a balcony. Became mayor that day. My people are free to do whatever they like, so long as it doesn't hurt anyone else."

"And what does that entail, exactly?" Danse asked.

"If someone wants to blow their hard earned caps on chems and shoot up all day, it don't bother me. Someone stole from ya and in return, ya cut off his hand or kill him? Fair play. Wanna sell sex for caps or chems? Why the hell not? Very few things don't fly in my town. Rape, slavery, hurtin' kids? No dice. I'll kill ya my fuckin' self... Birdie's seen that shit firsthand."

When Danse looked over to Betty, she popped off her helmet for a moment, her eyes still shut, and pointed to the horrific scar that marred her beauty. "A raider gave me this lovely parting gift before Hancock prevented him from doing much, much worse."

"And what a pleasure it was to rid the world of a shithead like him," Hancock snarled. He looked at Danse and added, "Ain't nothin' more satisfying than killin' those who force themselves on others. There's no sport to spillin' blood if the person ain't earned it. Lucky for us, the Commonwealth provides. The people asked and we fuckin' deliver. Every time."

"-We're on final approach to the airport. The Prydwen should be coming into view just ahead," the pilot announced.

Danse leaned over to tap Betty on the shoulder and explained, "We'll be meeting Lancer-Captain Kells on the flight deck. Just stick close to me and answer all of his questions."

The vertibird flew past an ancient frigate ship wedged on top of the Old Weatherby Savings and Loan building. Betty happened to open an eye as they passed and her jaw fell with surprise.

"Huh, always thought I hallucinated that old thing," said Hancock. He turned to Betty and asked, "Am I? Did pop a few pills I found at the bottom of my pack..not sure what they do.."

"Holy shit, that's the U.S.S. Constitution! I thought for sure it wouldn't make it when the bombs fell...but I guess they don't call her 'Old Ironsides' for nothing." Betty tugged on Hancock's sleeve and said, "I want that ship. I don't know why the hell it's on top of a building, but I want it."

Hancock smiled and said, "I'll find a way to anchor it to the Castle for ya."

The Brotherhood airship floated in the distance, tethered to Boston Airport with long, metal wires. Hancock stared in awe of something so massive hanging up in the sky without nothing but a few wires holding the ship in place...and wondered how easy it would be to cut them loose.

"There she is...it's been far too long since I've been aboard." said Danse, his tone wistful and a bit unlike the hard ass soldier he'd shown himself to be. "Parker, this is the moment when everything changes. I hope you're ready."

"Ready to vomit," Betty replied as the vertibird lurched forward as its propellers prepared for landing aboard the Prydwen.

Hancock chuckled and sat down beside Betty, his boots dangling from the edge of the aircraft. It must've been nerves, because she swore she was fine just a moment ago and now her insides twisted so horribly she knew bile would spill if she didn't hold it together. What a great first impression that would be...a leader of the Commonwealth, doubled over and puking her guts out, with a pissed off ghoul holding her hair back. Great.

"Just lean against me, breathe in slowly through the nose..there, now let it out slow but through the mouth. Rinse and repeat 'til ya head's clear," whispered Hancock as he smoothed his rough hand over the ends of her high ponytail.

Paladin Danse was glad the pilot was so focused on landing aboard the Prydwen as he felt himself begin to smile at the sight of the ghoul comforting Initiate Parker. Even the soldier had to admit that it was obvious the ghoul cared for her a great deal, and she for him...and as long as she consented to such a scandalous relationship, he decided he wouldn't pester Parker about it any longer.

The color began to return to Betty's cheeks until the vertibird made a hard turn as it locked onto the Prydwen's flight deck, and she emptied her stomach over the edge of the aircraft.

Hancock leaned over the edge and laughed before he said to her, "Hey, looks like ya got a few of those assholes below us! Good aim, Birdie!"

"Are you all right, Parker? Perhaps I should escort you to the Medical Bay as soon as we board," Danse asked and Betty waved his offer away.

"Please, I'm f-fine," Betty struggled to say as she fought the urge to spew again.

"Sorry! But not really!" Hancock shouted to the small figures below with a wave and glanced at Betty as he offered her a handkerchief from his pocket. "Think they heard me?"

Not able to laugh just yet, at least without throwing up, Betty managed a smile and Hancock returned the gesture before he reached out to stroke her cheek.

"I hate throwing up," said Betty, her voice small. "But better out than in, right?"

"'Course. Still think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on," Hancock assured her. "Always will."

"Even with this scar?"

"Heh, 'specially with that scar."

The Brotherhood pilot's landing aboard the floating ship was a success, and Danse saluted him before he hopped down onto the flight deck. Hancock jumped down himself and looked about the deck to gauge the Brotherhood's reaction to the sight of a ghoul aboard their precious metal bird, but none had noticed him just yet. He reached up and wrapped his hand around Betty's metal wrist, guiding her down to the deck since she still refused to open her eyes.

"C'mon baby, at least make it easy for me," he muttered to her as her metal boot whooshed over his head, forcing him to duck and nearly knocking his captain's hat off. "There now, you're on solid ground. Damn...great view."

Betty opened her eyes but as soon as she realized how high the Prydwen hung above the airport, she let out a small yelp and clung to her ghoul, forgetting that she was wearing an extra two hundred pounds of power armor.

Hancock reached up and pat her arm before he croaked, "I love ya..b-but m-maybe not c-crush the life outta me?"

"Sorry!" said Betty, dropping her arms. She picked up her helmet from beside the minigun and said, "This...this was a mistake-"

"-No turnin' back now. Into the fire, as you said back at the station," he replied as he gave her a gentle push forward.

Up ahead, Danse saluted a fit, older man with a hard face on the flight deck and asked, "Permission to come aboard, Lancer Captain Kells?"

Betty hadn't seen Danse behave in a submissive manner towards his Commanding Officers since _he_ was the commanding officer of the team stuck inside the police station, and to see him now, meek and softspoken, was strange. There was a chance that no matter how much Danse wanted to work with her, that he may fold under the pressure of his superiors. God, what had she gotten herself and Hancock into?

"What the hell is that thing doing aboard my ship, paladin?" asked Kells, nodding towards Hancock.

Hancock curled his fingers into fists and Betty took a step in front of him, blocking Kells from her love if the soldier were foolish enough to attack first.

"Our new recruit insists on traveling with him. They both lead separate factions within the Commonwealth," explained Danse. "I mentioned him in my report-"

"- _Him?_ " sneered Kells as he gave the ghoul a once over. A little on the shorter side, its skin not as rotten as some of the other ghouls Kells had seen during his time with the Brotherhood, but it was the ghoul's black, soulless eyes that made him feel uneasy. He was liable to go feral at any given moment with eyes like those. "I hope you're not getting soft now, Danse. Elder Maxson will decide whether that creature can stay or gets thrown from the flight deck. Regardless, permission is granted and welcome back. Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on a successful mission."

He may have been used to it, but it didn't make the insults any easier to swallow for Hancock. Whether Betty wanted to or not, he'd deal with these shitheads himself they made the wrong move.

"It would not have been successful without the help of my recruit," said Danse with a smile toward Betty. "I've field-promoted her to Initiate and I'd like to sponsor her entry into our rankings personally."

Kells nodded several times and said, "Yes, yes, we've read your reports. You'll be pleased to know that Elder Maxson's approved your request, and placed the recruit in your charge."

"Thank you, Sir," said the paladin with a respectful tilt of his head. "And my current orders?"

"You are to remain on the Prydwen and await further instructions."

"Very good, Sir," said Danse with a fist over his chest. "Ad Victoriam, Captain"

Betty and Hancock began to follow the paladin until Kells called out, "I'd like a word, Initiate."

She paused and turned to face the captain, her face like marble as she stared him down. Danse tried to beckon Hancock away from Betty but the ghoul shook his head and remained firm in his stance beside her.

"So, you're the one Paladin Danse has taken under his wing. Hmph. You don't look much like a soldier to me," said Kells.

Betty shrugged and said, "You're right. I believe I resemble a General more so than your run of the mill soldier, like that Rhys fellow we met back at the station. My partner here stepped up and rescued both Rhys and Haylen while providing cover fire for Paladin Danse and myself. Looks can be deceiving."

Hancock looked right at Lancer Captain Kells and the smirk on his scarred face grew as Betty spoke. If there was one thing Hancock enjoyed, it was proving jerks like these Brotherhood soldiers wrong and Betty knew exactly what to say with that silver tongue of hers that made his heart pound.

"Which is precisely why I personally insist on scrutinizing every recruit who boards this vessel. As I said to Paladin Danse, I've read his reports about you, though he failed to mention your ghoul slave-"

"-He's not my slave, and I don't appreciate you or anyone else calling him that," Betty snapped.

Hancock glanced over at Betty and when he caught her eye, he mouthed, _Careful.._

"Despite this little snag and that lip of yours, Danse seems to think you'll make a fine addition to the Brotherhood. You might expect an endorsement like that to grant you a great deal of latitude with us, but let me make one thing clear: The Brotherhood of Steel has traveled to the Commonwealth with a specific goal in mind. As the captain of this vessel, I won't allow anyone to jeopardize our mission, no matter how valuable they think they are. Understood?" asked the captain.

"And we," Betty motioned to Hancock and herself, " _are_ valuable to the people of the Commonwealth and to continue with both hateful remarks and hostile actions will serve to add even more strain with regard to your repute with them. If you'd enjoy another war where the Earth is scorched _again_ and _everyone_ loses, please, continue to insult us. Am _I_ understood, Sir?"

"...Don't get fresh with me, Initiate. Your orders are to proceed to the Command Deck for the address, after which Elder Maxson wishes to have a word with you. Dismissed, now get the hell out of my sight," said the Lancer Captain before he shoved past Betty with a scowl.

Hancock stared at Betty with a wild grin and whispered, "I would fuck your brains out right here, right now, in front of all these tools if I could."

"Seems a law degree can be useful in this life, too," said Betty with a smile. She squeezed his hand and whispered back, "And I'd totally let you."

He couldn't have been more proud of her than he was right then. "Show 'em who they're fuckin' with, love."

Betty walked up a set of stairs on the deck, guarded by a Brotherhood soldier armed with a minigun, as Hancock followed right behind her. When the pair met with Danse at the top of the steps, the guard pointed his weapon in Hancock's direction. "Behave yourself, freak."

"Ain't about to start now," Hancock replied with a scoff and Betty's laughter escaped her.

"It's all right," Danse said to the guard. "They are both under my watch. He guards our new Initiate, and she's given me her word he is tame enough."

The guard shook his head and said to Betty, "If your ghoul even looks like it's going feral, I'm putting it down. Only good ghoul is a dead ghoul."

"Watch your mouth, friend," and he nodded to Betty, who glared at the soldier. "It'll get ya in trouble."

Betty leaned toward the guard and whispered, "Touch him..and I'll feed you, piece by piece, to our pet super mutant."

Danse led the grinning pair away from the shocked guard before he could respond to whatever threat Parker had made and into the Prydwen itself. He reminded himself that there was a high chance of the ghoul not returning aboard the Prydwen once this bit of pomp and circumstance was over and perhaps Parker would relax around her fellow soldiers.

Inside, the ship was darker than Betty expected and the all of the morning's new light poured through a large window in a room ahead of them, past a stairwell. The room itself was nearly filled to the brim with soldiers and she realized it must be the Command Deck, where she was to meet with Elder Maxson.

"Parker, go ahead and find a spot inside the deck; your ghoul and I can listen from out here," said Danse.

"You told me not to go anywhere without him," said Betty, her hand on her hip. "Or were those empty words?"

"We'll be right outside the doorway. You have my word that he'll not see any harm..unless he manages to find trouble in the span of ten minutes.."

She beckoned Danse closer and whispered, "I know you're the boss of me now and I mean this in the most respectful manner possible, but if anything happens to Hancock, and I mean anything, I'll fly this god damn ship into the ground with all of us still aboard."

"..Noted, Parker," Danse replied. "I'll give your insubordination a pass this one time, but you will not receive another chance, so I hope he was worth it."

"Always," said Betty over her shoulder.

She pushed past several much taller soldiers, and when she found herself at the very front of the group who looked upon their Elder with adoring faces. A handsome young man wearing a heavy suede coat stood at the Command Deck's center, and as he raised his hand, the room fell silent. Betty felt her mouth fall open at the sight of Elder Maxson, who appeared to be not a day over twenty; a post-apocalyptic Alexander the Great.

"Brothers and Sisters!" began the Brotherhood leader. "The road behind has been long and fraught with difficulty. Each and every one of you has surpassed my expectations by rapidly facilitating our arrival in the Commonwealth. You have accomplished this amazing feat without a hint of purpose or direction, and most impressively, without question."

Hancock almost laughed at the clown who held everyone's attention but was forced to swallow his amusement as several soldiers glanced at him and then back at Betty. These idiots weren't real soldiers; they were puppets, performing on command at the order of a master puppeteer. He wanted nothing more than to send this base crashing into the airport below them, and he would have, even though it would mean his death.

Betty turned to check if Hancock still stood behind her and smiled at him. The ghoul smiled back, his thoughts of violence and murder ebbing. Being in love was a weird, fuckin' ball game. He never would've set foot on this ship if it weren't for Betty's request, but part of him was grateful for the times she'd steadied his hand. Fahrenheit did always say that being too much of a hothead would land him in a gutter one day.

"Now that the ship is in position, it is time to reveal our purpose and our mission: destroying the Institute," Elder Maxson explained to his soldiers. "They are experimenting with dangerous technologies that could prove to be the world's undoing for the second time in recent history. The Institute has created a weapon that transcends the destructive nature of the atom bomb. They call their creation the 'synth,' a robotic abomination of technology that is free-thinking and masquerades as a human being. The notion that a machine could be granted free will is not only offensive, but horribly dangerous. And like the atom, if it isn't harnessed properly, it has the potential of rendering us extinct as a species. I am not prepared to allow the Institute to continue this line of experimentation. Therefore, the Institute and their 'synths' are considered enemies of the Brotherhood of Steel, and should be dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. This campaign will be costly and many lives will be lost-"

 _You could say that shit again,_ thought Hancock.

"-But in the end, we will be saving humankind from its worst enemy...itself. Ad Victoriam!" Maxson shouted with a fist over his heart.

"Ad Victoriam!" Maxson's soldiers shouted back as they saluted their leader.

Betty and Hancock remained silent..the Brotherhood was quickly becoming a little too fascist for their tastes, but it would be something they'd be happy to remedy. One day at a time, though.

Danse turned to Betty as the rest of the soldiers dispersed from the Command Deck and said, "Ad Victoriam means-"

"-To victory," answered Betty and Hancock together.

Betty and Danse stared at Hancock, who grinned and reminded her, "An educated man is feared, remember?"

She laughed and replied in a whisper, "And you're not one to fuck with?"

"Exactly."

"Initiate Parker!" Elder Maxson called out. "A moment of your time."

Danse grabbed Betty's shoulder and said in a low voice, "Remember, this is my leader you'll be speaking to, Parker, so watch your mouth. There is nothing I can do if you make yourself an enemy."

Betty nodded and walked over to Elder Maxson's side as he gazed from a large window that overlooked the world below. The Elder's face was smooth and youthful, aside from a thick scar that ran across his cheek and disappeared beneath his full, dark beard.

"I care about them, you know," Maxson said to Betty over his shoulder. "The people of the Commonwealth."

She looked over at him and shook her head before she replied, "No, you don't. If you really cared, you'd leave them to their own devices."

Danse's helmet toppled to the floor in his shock and Hancock stood straight, hands clasped behind his back, beaming with pride for his girl who was no longer afraid of the world around her...now, she was grabbing it by the fuckin' balls.

"What the hell is she doing?" Danse whispered.

The ghoul smirked and answered, "Bein' the kind of leader _I'd_ follow into battle."

Elder Maxson shook his head with a laugh and replied, "Leaving them to their own devices is what reduced this metropolis to ruins in the first place. I'm a bit surprised that you don't realize that by now."

"I was there, before the bombs dropped, so believe me, I understand. But just like now, that order was given by our government, not the citizens. We were just...caught in the fallout of it all. It's what will happen if the Brotherhood remains here," Betty explained. "So you're not going to convince me that you're right, because you're young...and you don't know what's best for these people."

"Yet despite your obvious lack of faith in our cause, Paladin Danse still feels you'd be an asset to the Brotherhood as a possible ally. Seeing as he's one of my most respected field officers, you couldn't get a better recommendation. Therefore, from this moment forward, I'm granting you the rank of Knight," said Maxson.

"A Knight?" She laughed and said, "Huh, you guys really are stuck in the Dark Ages..fanaticism, power by overwhelming force, killing those you fear instead of trying to learn more about them-"

"-Judging from the state of the world, it wouldn't be a stretch to say we're living in that era again. In any event once you're finished with that bit of defiance and become familiar with the Prydwen and my staff, report to the flight deck for your new orders... and welcome aboard, soldier."

Elder Maxson saluted Betty with a fist over his chest and waited, expecting the same motion from her. This was it..if she reciprocated, she would be an official member of the Brotherhood of Steel. Would her own soldiers forgive her for such an act? Would they even understand why she thought this was for the best? She knew Preston would stand behind her decision, although she wouldn't put it past him to worry unnecessarily. Regardless, this was her choice to make...and it would be one that would affect the East Coast for years to come.

Betty's fist pounded over her own heart and the Elder smiled. Hancock, however, had to look away from the sight. Christ, he hoped she knew what the fuck she was doing.

"You don't want her to do this," said Danse to the ghoul. "I'm surprised you didn't try to to stop her."

"I don't tell her what to do. Her choice." Hancock shook his head and added, "It's almost like...watchin' her crawl into bed with someone else, but as much as I hate it, she's right. If it were up to me, I'd just keep killin' anyone who gets in my way. She swears that doin' this sorta shit will get us further than violence, and if it doesn't...my guns will do just fine."

Betty followed behind Elder Maxson and he didn't even notice Danse salute him; his attention focused solely on Hancock, the only ghoul to ever set foot on his ship alive.

"Knight Parker," Elder Maxson asked. "I suppose this creature belongs to you?"

Hancock raised his brow and before Betty could answer, he said to Maxson, "You could say that."

"And it can communicate as well!" said the Elder with surprise. "Color me impressed. Tell me, ghoul, what do you call yourself? If you even have a name, of course."

It was this moment that made Betty reconsider trying to make peace with the Brotherhood of Steel and if Hancock reacted badly, she was ready to run for the Prydwen's controls and drive the ship into the ground as promised.

"Mayor John Hancock," the ghoul answered in a flat voice, "of Goodneighbor."

Maxson laughed and Hancock grit his teeth at the sound.

 _Can't wait to mount your fuckin' head on my wall,_ Hancock thought.

"Oh? A couple of shacks does not constitute a town," said Maxson.

"Goodneighbor is the the second largest settlement in the Commonwealth, after Diamond City," said Hancock with narrowed eyes.

"And how did a ghoul manage to come upon such a title?" the young Elder asked.

Hancock smirked and answered, "I overthrew the town's former dictator and hung him from the balcony. Ten years of anarchy ever since, and still goin' strong."

Elder Maxson's face fell and he took a step back as Betty grinned. As often as Hancock was proud of her, she was the one who stood beaming with pride. Bless him, he really was giving this a chance.

"Be sure to keep an eye on this one, Danse," said Maxson. "There's no telling what a ghoul on the verge of going feral can do."

"Parker assured me the ghoul poses no threat to the Brotherhood unless she or his settlement are threatened, Sir," said Danse.

"Very good," Maxson replied with a final, icy stare at Hancock, who returned the gesture. "Introduce Parker to her brothers and sisters on the Prydwen. I'd like if she met everyone in her new family."

"Yes, Sir," Danse answered with a fist over his heart.

The trio watched as Elder Maxson walked away and the moment he was out of ear-shot, Betty looked over at Danse with a wide smile before she whispered, "You defied an order talking to us about the Institute at Arc-Jet and on the vertibird, didn't you?"

Even Hancock seemed a bit shocked at the sudden realization that Danse disregarded a direct order and the soldier looked away from them both with a reddened face.

"Don't worry," she told the paladin as she nudged his ribs. "We'd never snitch on you."

Danse took comfort in Parker's assurance of confidentiality and was surprised to see the same ghoul he had treated so poorly nod with agreement at her promise.

The paladin asked, "How did you find Elder Maxson?"

Betty grimaced and replied, "He sounds pretty delusional to me. You don't actually buy everything he's saying, do you? He's a damn kid!"

"You shouldn't judge Maxson on his words alone. His actions prove his sincerity. I just hope you appreciate how much of a chance I'm taking bringing you into the fold this quickly. Not to put too fine a point on it, but if you screw up...we go down together," Danse said.

"I'll be careful," said Betty. "I'm not trying to hurt anyone, you know, not if I don't have to."

The paladin let out a long sigh of relief and explained, "Good, because we've got a lot of work ahead of us and I don't want anything slowing us down. Now, I know you must be eager to take the fight against the Institute, but in order to be an effective part of a team, you need to learn your way around this ship and get to know its crew. Since I've been officially assigned as your sponsor, I'd recommend taking me along during your missions instead of...him."

"Heh, why the hell would she want the fifth best lookin' man in the Commonwealth on her arm when she can have number one?" asked Hancock as he pointed to himself.

"What on earth are you talking about?" asked Danse.

"Who's fourth?" Betty asked, curious and a little amused.

Hancock shrugged his shoulders and replied,"Maxson's way more of a pretty boy than 'ol Dunce here."

"Yeah," said Betty as she looked at the Paladin with a growing smile. "I can see your point."

"Are you both quite finished?" asked Danse as he rolled his eyes. "If so, I'll escort you to the Med Bay."

"Lead the way..Boss," Betty said with a kind smile.

As the paladin led them to the Prydwen's medical bay, Hancock whispered to Betty, "Ya know, if you wanted to be bossed around a little more, ya could've just asked..didn't have to join up with these losers."

"Now that you mention it," she replied, "I wouldn't mind a rougher hand now and again."

Hancock laughed loud enough that several Brotherhood soldiers glared at him and he said, "Birdie, the second we're off this dump, you are so fucked."

"That's the idea," she said with a grin.

Tucked away in a small corner of the floating fortress was the med bay, where an older, balding man stood as he looked over the notes on his battered clipboard. At the sound of boots clunking against the metal catwalk, he lifted his head and smiled at Danse and Betty, until his eyes found Hancock and his cheer soured into a scowl.

"Parker, this is Knight-Captain Cade, the Prydwen's on board physician, said the paladin. "Cade, this is the newly ranked Knight Parker, a faction leader of the Commonwealth. The ghoul is her guardian. He calls himself Hancock."

Betty wasn't sure how much more snobbery Hancock could tolerate and with every second that ticked away, the guilt twisting within her gut grew more and more. This was the same man who cut out people's tongues for disrespecting him...and somehow, he had endured almost two days worth of near-constant insults without lifting a finger, Rhys being the foolish exception. Whoever was unfortunate enough to be the first to upset Hancock once they returned to the surface would surely meet a gruesome and violent end.

She waited for her love to meet her gaze and mouthed, _I'm so sorry._

 _You owe me,_ Hancock mouthed back.

"Did Elder Maxson approve of this freak on board the ship?" Cade asked, and Danse nodded. "As long as it stays away from me."

"Feelin's mutual," said Hancock.

"Knight Parker, glad you stopped by. Are you ready for your medical exam?" Cade asked Betty.

"As long as it doesn't involve petroleum jelly and rubber gloves, I'm ready."

Hancock snorted behind Betty and rested his hand on the small of her back as Danse rolled his eyes.

Knight-Captain Cade shook his head and replied, "No, no, this isn't _that_ sort of examination. I'm going to ask you a series of medical-related questions and I'd like you to answer to the best of your ability."

"That doesn't sound so bad," said Betty. "Please, go ahead."

Cade sat down behind his desk and motioned for Betty to take a seat as well. "Paladin Danse? I need for you and that..atrocity to vacate the med bay until Parker's examination is concluded. Private matters and all-"

"-I ain't movin', pal, so get used to it," said Hancock.

"How dare you-" Cade began to say.

Betty raised her hand to interrupt and said, "I won't answer any questions unless he's here, and I don't care if Danse listens to my replies, as I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of."

The Knight-Captain grumbled and said, "Let's get this over with then. First question: As a child, were you ever exposed to radiation for an extended period of time?"

"..My father said I used to sit too close to the TV?" Betty answered.

"The..television? Wait a second, let me check my notes here..you were a pre-war vault dweller? You're probably healthier than anyone else aboard! Anyway, sorry I missed that in your records. Just going down the list of questions, I'm sure you understand," said Cade as he flipped through his notes once more.

"Real organized here, aren't ya?" asked Hancock with a scoff.

Cade ignored Hancock's jab and said to Betty, "Okaaaaay, second question: Have you ever had _or_ come in contact with a person confirmed to be carrying a communicable disease?"

She shook her head and answered, "Never been seriously sick in my life, no."

"Good, good. Third question and please answer honestly: Have you ever had sexual relations with any species considered non-human?" Cade asked with a sigh.

Betty's eyes almost popped out of their sockets and she asked, "Are you asking me if I've ever fucked an animal? Like...a dog or something? I heard some people are into that sort of thing, but it's common enough you have ask that question?"

"You'd be surprised how many wastelanders answer yes to that question...mostly ghouls, it seems," Cade explained with a nasty glance at Hancock. "Fortunately the Brotherhood finds that type of behavior absolutely distasteful. Since you haven't spent too much time in the wasteland, I'll assume your answer is no-"

"-Call me a dirty wastelander and write down yes for me, too," said Betty as she leaned over his desk and tapped her finger on the physician's clipboard as Hancock howled with laughter at her reply.

"Parker, that's enough!" said Danse.

"He said to answer honestly!" she said over her shoulder. With a smile for a shocked and disgusted Cade, she added, "I can get into specifics if need be, Sir."

Knight-Captain Cade shook his head as he crossed out 'no' on his clipboard and wrote in Betty's actual answer instead. "That won't be necessary, Knight. That being said, since you are willing to engage in such illicit affairs-"

"-No, no, just the one illicit affair with him," Betty interrupted as she jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at Hancock, who's smug grin couldn't be wider.

Hancock leaned over her shoulder and said, "Lemme ask ya somethin', doc. If she swallows my load on the regular, should she be takin' Rad-Away?"

Paladin Danse stood up and left the medical bay without a word, and Betty realized she may have pushed him a little too far. Hancock wasn't making it any easier, though she was enjoying his bit of guff. She frowned as the paladin faced away from them and covered his face with his hand. "John, maybe that was a bit too much."

"Hey, that's a legit medical question we've been wonderin' about for a while now," he replied.

She nodded and asked Cade, "Well, _should_ I be taking Rad-Away?"

"It...it certainly wouldn't hurt," Cade answered with a grim face. "I must inform you that unless you terminate your relations with the ghoul, you are not to fraternize with any of the other soldiers, lest you infect them all with some sort of disease...am I clear?"

Betty leaned back into her chair and replied, "That's not going to happen, Sir. Was never a fan of bigots anyhow. The less I socialize here, the better, especially if everyone is going to behave so poorly over something that's none of their god damn business."

"Last question: Do you have any issues pulling the trigger on an enemy of the Brotherhood, whether they're human, formerly human, or machine?" Cade asked.

She didn't even have to think twice about that answer. "If my life or the lives of the ones I care for are in danger, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Acceptable. I've got all the information I need...unfortunately, but I see no need to prevent you from doing your duties immediately. Dismissed, Knight," said Knight-Captain Cade before he turned his back to the trio and began to enter Betty's medical history into a terminal.

As they left the medical bay, four young boys no older than Shaun ran between the trio as they played a game of tag. The smallest tripped over Danse's armored boot, and the paladin reached down to pick him up by the back of his uniform. The boy smiled up at Danse before he rushed after his friends.

Hancock's face appeared mere inches away from Danse and he growled, "You idiots brought _kids_ when you're tryin' to start a war? And you see nothin' wrong with that at all?"

"Personally, I never liked having Squires aboard the Prydwen," Danse replied. "If it were up to me, I would send them back to the Citadel, our stronghold in the Capital Wasteland."

Betty stared at the paladin with disbelief in her eyes. "Wait a minute, you...you don't bring them along on missions, do you?"

"I haven't done so, but Elder Maxson insists that they train under live fire," explained the paladin with a frown.

"How many ya got on board?" Hancock asked. If they did take the Brotherhood down, at least the kids would be spared. How he would convince them to come along...well, he was hoping Betty would be able to it.

"Four, all boys. Squires Glade, Artemis, McKenna, and Colvin. McKenna's sister was also supposed to be aboard, but she chose to remain behind with their mother instead."

Hancock scoffed and muttered, "Smart kid."

Next, Betty met with Proctor Quinlan, who mistook her for someone else as he cleaned his thick glasses. He explained that he was in charge of keeping track of all recovered technology and technical documentation for the entirety of the Brotherhood, and to Hancock, that sounded pretty fuckin' boring. As Betty was forced by Danse to give this Quinlan guy a listen, Hancock distracted himself with Quinlan's pet cat, Emmet, who climbed onto the ghoul's shoulders to rub against his jawline.

The ghoul carefully picked up the cat from his right shoulder and whispered, "I'll be sure to grab ya, too, little guy."

Danse then led the pair to the power armor station, where several soldiers were being fitted with their own suits of armor. A female soldier walked about the station wearing only a frame of armor, with no metal shielding attached at all.

"This is Proctor Ingram, our lead engineer," explained the paladin.

Betty reached out to shake the Proctor's hand and said, "Nice to meet you, ma'am."

As every other Brotherhood soldier they met so far had done, Ingram gave Betty a once over before she said, "So, you're the new recruit I heard about. Hm...not what I was expecting."

"What the hell _is_ everyone expecting?" Betty blurted out. She glanced back at Danse and asked, "What did you tell them about me that's making me look so bad?"

The paladin crossed his arms and nodded toward Hancock. "You really have to ask?"

Ingram shook her head and explained, "It wasn't anything in the paladin's report. I don't give a damn who you have following you around. It's just the last batch of recruits we took on were wastelanders, too. Dirty, beaten up, and looking for a handout."

"Spoken like a true, cold-hearted asshole," Hancock said under his breath.

Proctor Ingram narrowed her eyes and asked, "What was that?"

"Brotherhood keeps sayin' over and over that they wanna help, yet that's how you talk about wastelanders who ask for it? Real nice. My town doesn't pull that crap. All are welcome, and we never had any issues. They all pull their weight once I help 'em to their feet."

"These wastelanders were desperate and looking for an easy out," Ingram insisted. She looked at Betty and added, _"You_ look like you're here for a reason. Anyway, since you came here to meet me, we might as well get it over with. This lovely little grease pit is where you'll usually find me. If your power armor's too tight in the crotch, the Prydwen's about to crash into the ground, or a robot's gone haywire, you come see me."

"I'm General Betty Parker down in the Commonwealth, Knight Parker up here. Still not used to either."

"Good to meet you, but I really need to get back to work," said Ingram. "If you ever need another set of armor or just pieces to replace ones that break, that one in the corner over there is yours. Stay safe out there."

As Proctor Ingram returned to soldering a suit of power armor, Betty pulled Hancock aside and whispered, "Are you ready to get out of here?"

Hancock nodded and said, "I think I've tolerated enough of their shit for one day."

"Danse?" said Betty, tapping on the paladin's shoulder. "We're out of here. I have a lead on where I can find my son."

The paladin nodded and escorted the pair back out to the vertibird still perched on the flight deck. "My offer still stands, Knight Parker. I would be honored to assist in finding your son."

"Ain't the kinda threesome I had in mind, pal," said Hancock. "In this case, three's a crowd. Stay here with your..fellow dumpsters."

Betty climbed aboard the vertibird, and this time, her legs were a little less shaky and unsure than her previous flight. She smiled down at Danse as Hancock climbed in behind her and she said, "It's a personal matter, Sir..and if I'm being honest, I'm not sure I can trust you with it."

"We cannot foster any type of bond if you do not allow yourself to trust me," said Danse.

She shook her head and replied, "Sorry, Boss. The Brotherhood is your top priority, and I understand that, but the people we associate with won't take kindly to your kind..and it could hinder in my search."

" _My_ kind?" Danse asked with raised brows.

"Yeah, ' _your kind,"_ said Hancock with a smirk. "Feels pretty shitty, doesn't it?"

"And how will I find you if you're needed here, Parker?"

"Send a message to the Castle," said Betty as she leaned out and pointed towards the Minutemen stronghold across the bay. "My Minutemen can get it to me over our radio frequency. I suggest you be unarmed as you approach them. We just built some artillery and the mortars are serious business."

"And don't even bother with Goodneighbor," Hancock chimed in. "Won't get a warm reception."

Danse scoffed and replied, "After all that bragging about how your town is so much more progressive than the Brotherhood, and yet you warn me that I won't be welcomed."

"Didn't say ya couldn't come in," said Hancock. "Just warnin' that ya might have a bad time of it. Betty wasn't jokin' about that super mutant of ours, ya know. He'll fuckin' eat ya."

Betty waved goodbye to the paladin as the vertibird's engine roared to life and the pilot turned to ask, "Where to, Knight Parker?"

"Back to the Cambridge Police Station," said Betty. "We'd like to pick up where we left off."


	20. The Hunter

**Hey guys! Apologies about the lapse in posting. A combo of writer's block and a downer mood killed my desire to write anything at all. If you've followed me from previous fics, you guys are used to this by now, I'm sure. These gaps don't happen _that_ often, but they do. My brain doesn't always work when I need it to, haha.**

 **Thanks so much for all of your follows, favs, and reviews. You guys are awesome and I love you.**

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The Courser signal led Betty and Hancock to Greenetech Genetics after they departed from the Cambridge police station. A set of metal doors separated the pair from their newest sworn enemy, and after fighting through an onslaught of raiders along the way, they leaned against the walls of the building to catch their weary breaths. Betty pulled off the helmet of her power armor with a gasp as she took in several deep breaths of Commonwealth air. She wondered, as the smallest tingle of radiation warmed her skin, just how much exposure was needed to turn ghoul. A few days, maybe? She'd find out somehow, perhaps even ask Daisy or Ham how long the process took.

"Okay, so maybe screwing all those times on the way wasn't the greatest of ideas," said Hancock, who wiped his sweating brow with the sleeve of his drifter coat. "Worth it, though, 'specially after all the ghoul hate we've been gettin'. Made it extra filthy, and you know how much I _love_ that."

"I'm walking better than I thought I'd be," Betty said as she squeezed his hand. "That's surprising."

Her ghoul chuckled and said, "I'll do better next time. Couldn't focus between gettin' shot at and watchin' those magnificent cans bounce around. Equally important in my eyes."

Betty's mouth wrinkled into a smile and she replied, "Don't worry; you never disappoint me."

Pleased with her answer, Hancock leaned forward and kissed her, his hand cupping her cheek. "Think it's about time the hunter becomes the hunted. What say you, love?"

After facing the Brotherhood and telling Elder Maxson how she and Hancock truly felt about the invasion of their homeland, Betty was ready to face the deadly Courser. To not feel an ounce of fear for even a moment after all this time was just about the most liberating thing she'd ever felt since leaving the vault. The fact that Hancock remained by her side despite her risky attempts at peace making made her love him more and more. She threw her arms around his neck as her heart thumped, both for the man she loved and the prey they sought.

"I _am_ due for another 'souvenir'," Betty said with a wink before she rammed her shoulder against the front doors of Greenetech's lobby.

The body of a Gunner mercenary sprawled over the receptionist's desk, the back of his skull blown out and cauterized by the skillful shot of a plasma rifle. And it wasn't just the one Gunner; the bodies of an entire fleet of Gunner mercenaries lay dead, limbs and heads strewn about the cracked, dirty tile floor.

Hancock took a step in front of Betty with a scowl and surveyed the lobby for any sign of the Courser's location, but found nothing that would give his or her position away. Only death and carnage surrounded them and he realized this fight wouldn't be as easy as he'd thought. Fuck.

"It's too quiet," he said in a low voice. "I can hear myself think..and no one wants to hear the shit that goes on in my head, not even me."

Betty's sense of pride deflated at the sight of all the mangled bodies, but she stood tall behind her ghoul with a hard face and joked, "Jesus...I hope this was the work of one Courser...not sure if that's good or bad for us."

"Guess we missed the party," whispered Hancock as they examined the scuffle that had taken place. "Fuckin' Brotherhood and their long-winded bullshit."

Gunfire and shouting erupted on the floors above them and the pair glanced at each other for a moment. There was still some fun to be had, so it seemed.

Betty popped her helmet back on and whispered, "I think we just made it."

"Hope our luck doesn't crap out on the wrong day," said Hancock. He urged Betty forward with a wave of his gun and added, "Ladies first, of course...until we find the Courser and then I'm goin' in first."

"The hell you will," said Betty before she rushed up a broken staircase at the lobby's center. "That bastard's head is mine."

Hancock followed close behind her with a smile and replied, "We gotta add your name to the list of 'People Not to Fuck With.' Remind me, when we get back to Goodneighbor."

 _"The Courser's on the second floor. Kill on sight,"_ announced a voice over an intercom. _"Send reinforcements to the lobby in case there are more of them."_

Betty paused at the top of the staircase and looked back at Hancock before she said, "I didn't think the Gunners would still try to fight after this massacre."

"Stubborn assholes, all of 'em," he replied. "They never know when to fold. Should've been a year ago."

She pulled out the laser rifle Danse gifted her, but it wasn't until then that she noticed the paladin carved a name into the rifle's barrel: _Righteous Authority_. Hell yes it was.

The broken stairs led the pair to an atrium protected by three wall-mounted machine gun turrets. As the turrets ripped apart the doorway and lone entrance to the rest of the Greenetech building, Betty leaned out and took aim before firing several well-placed shots, shattering two of the turrets above them. Hancock appeared over her right shoulder and aimed with his borrowed assault rifle before he took out the last turret. The room's few seconds of silence was wiped away by a storm of bullets when a team of Gunners swarmed the walkway before Betty or Hancock could cross.

"Another Courser!" shouted a Gunner, who shot at Betty before Hancock yanked her back around the ruined doorway.

"You fucking idiot, she's not a Courser!" shouted another Gunner. "It's that cunt Minuteman General!"

"Rude!" Betty shouted out loud. She glanced back at her love, whose face contorted into one of rage, and jerked her thumb out the doorway with a laugh. "They know who I am! Should I get used to that?"

"Get used to this; outta my way!" Hancock stormed out onto the walkway, Betty's fingers grasping for the end of his coat and failing to hold him back, before the ghoul unloaded a full clip at the Gunners who stood in their way. "Who fuckin' said that?"

..Perhaps it was best if Hancock blew off some steam.

Two Gunners remained in the aftermath of the ghoul's ruthless slaughter, both heavily injured. He unloaded two more shots, one for each Gunner's kneecap and repeated, "Lemme ask again: Who fuckin' said that?"

One Gunner pointed to his comrade without hesitation and Hancock returned the gesture with a point blank shot to the face. The mercenary who remained whimpered at the bloodied remains of his former friend.

"Nobody likes a snitch," said Hancock as Betty stepped into the gory hallway. "Am I right?"

"Always," she replied.

The surviving Gunner threw himself to the broken floor and pleaded, "Please, I'm sor-"

"-This is the one," said Betty with furrowed brows. "I recognize his voice."

With a nod, Hancock slammed the butt of his rifle into the Gunner's chest and sent him sprawling down onto the floor before he pinned the mercenary by his throat. Down the hall, a few Gunners leaned out of a pair of doorways to take a few pot shots at Betty, who returned fire.

"If there's one word I fuckin' hate..it's _that_ word," the ghoul snarled. "Lemme teach ya some manners."

Hancock wedged the barrel of his .44 magnum between the Gunner's teeth, and Betty looked away when the blade of the ghoul's combat knife caught the flickering light above them. As the Gunner's piercing screams echoed throughout the hallway, Betty found herself wearing a smile.

"Man, this never gets old" said the ghoul with a laugh as he held up the jagged bit of flesh that was once a tongue.

The Gunner tried to crawl away, blood pouring out from between his teeth as he howled in anguish. A few months ago, Betty would've chosen to be the merciful one and put him out of his misery. That was then. And he was a Gunner. No mercy for them.

"You think he can still call me a cunt with all of those teeth?" Betty asked with disgust.

Hancock grinned like a mad man and stared at the Gunner, who sobbed by the doorway as he held his jaw. The ghoul delivered a swift and vicious kick to the Gunner's chin and knocked him onto his back, grabbing the merc's ankle as he tried to squirm away.

"Now, I ain't got pliers or nothin'-" Hancock pulled out his knife once more, this time holding the blade in his palm, and the Gunner screamed. "-So I'll just bash 'em out instead."

The ghoul brought down the hilt of his combat knife and smashed out several of the mercenary's teeth at once, throwing them over his shoulder as he counted to himself. When the Gunner's screams ceased and the choking began, Hancock asked Betty, "How many teeth we got again? Thirty?"

"Thirty-two," Betty answered and Hancock glanced back at the small pile of broken teeth behind him.

"..Should be at least ten there," he said, nodding towards the pile. The Gunner lay unresponsive, his brown eyes blank as they stared up at the ceiling. "He might've choked on the others I knocked out. Shame. Wasn't done with his ass yet."

Betty held out her armored hand and pulled Hancock back onto his feet. "Feel better?"

"Hell yeah, needed to let that out," Hancock replied. "I know you ain't fond of those methods-"

"-These men knew what they signed on for. If they felt bad about anything they've done, they would've left like MacCready did. Do your worst. I won't stop you," said Betty.

The pair cleared out the hallway and reached the next level of the atrium when they heard the same voice crackle over the loudspeakers.

 _"The Courser is now on the third floor!"_ the voice announced _. "The second intruder is now in the atrium, possibly another Courser. Kill on sight, I repeat, kill on sight! Barricade stairwells and hallways if you haven't already!"_

"Elevator's dead," said Hancock as he pressed the button on the panel several times. "Gotta go the long way up...can't believe that shithead didn't even mention me during his announcement."

"You poor thing," said Betty. "But I'm pretty sure the entire Commonwealth knows your name."

The Gunners continued in vain to block off the hallways and offices that led further up through the atrium, but a few half-assed barricades were no match for a pissed-off Betty in a full suit of power armor and she plowed right through them, Hancock following behind her as he popped a handful of Buffout before he brought his flask to his rough lips.

At the end of the hall on the fourth floor, several turrets switched on and pinned the twosome in to a small corner, the bullets bouncing off Betty's armored shoulders. She leaned over her ghoul, who offered Betty what remained of his flask before she shook her head and turned on a terminal.

Hancock peeked out from beneath Betty and reeled back against her as a missile slammed into the wall beside the doorway with a deafening blast. "Hurry it up, Birdie!"

"Rushing me won't help!" she said as she reset the amount of password attempts.

Another missile exploded outside the doorway and knocked her away before she could press the 'enter' key. She struggled to her feet, Hancock wedged to the tile floor beneath her. "I can't reach!" she shouted.

"God damn it, I'm tryin'," Hancock shouted over the gunfire. "Your arm's in the way!"

Betty turned and took aim at the Gunner who was reloading his missile launcher. The ghoul reached up and smashed his hand onto the terminal's keyboard before the turrets turned on the Gunners shooting from the walkway above them.

"They're gonna carry you outta here!" Hancock shouted as the turrets tore the Gunners apart and Betty pressed her face against his shoulder with a hearty laugh.

"In body bags, maybe," she said.

"Too fuckin' right, love."

When the walkway and atrium fell into an eerie silence, Betty deactivated the turrets and strolled out onto the walkway, her laser rifle resting against her shoulder.

 _"We've lost contact with sectors two and four!"_ the voice announced. _"Courser is now on the fourth floor! The other intruders have been identified as Hancock and the new Minuteman General-"_

"-General Parker you fuckin' moron!" Hancock shouted out.

She chuckled as her ghoul stood a little taller and marched past her into a laboratory across the way. "How's your head going to fit through the doorways now?"

"I'll manage," Hancock replied over his shoulder.

 _"Somebody kill those assholes already!"_

Betty and Hancock swept through the laboratory floor, the few Gunners who remained behind not standing a chance against them. As Betty walked past a dying mercenary, who tried to stab her side in a half-hearted attempt, she grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall. At this point, why did the Gunners even bother to fight back?

"I'm taking back Quincy," Betty quipped. "And when I find out where the Gunners operate from, I'm blowing it to Hell."

"Oh, I'd love to see that shit," said Hancock. He picked up a dead Gunner by the front of his fatigues, a radio attached to his armored vest and the ghoul added, "Tell 'em."

Betty pressed the radio's call button and was surprised when the feedback rang out all around them. She and her ghoul grinned at each other before she pressed the button again and announced, "This is General Elizabeth Parker of the Minutemen. If you think your lives are Hell now, just wait until I annihilate your base and take back Quincy. I'm coming for you."

" _How the fuck-Fuck you, Parker! You're fucking dead!"_ the Gunner Commander announced.

Her finger almost crushed the radio's button when she replied, "I'd like to see you try..miscreant!"

Hancock slapped his hand over his face and dropped the dead Gunner to his boots. "Baby, we gotta work on your smack talk."

"Yeah, yeah, but shooting them is way more fun," she said as she followed Hancock through another lab.

When they reached the final walkway across the atrium, the Gunners above the pair engaged in a fire fight so tempestuous they believed the floor might give way as it shook the walls. Betty took Hancock's hand and rushed them across the atrium as pieces of the ceiling rained down.

 _"Fall back to original positions! The Courser's nearing the elevator!"_

Hancock urged Betty forward and followed in her destructive wake as she crashed through several more barricades, crushing a few Gunners beneath her boots. "Gotta catch that Courser before he leaves! Go, go!"

 _"The Courser's after the girl! Anyone alive needs to get up to the top floor immediately! That's an order!"_

Betty met Hancock's dark eyes and said, "I didn't expect a hostage. Let's hurry. Hopefully, we can reach her in time."

After clearing a burnished, red room protected by laser tripwire and a swarm of Gunners, Hancock called for the elevator at the top of the stairwell as Betty ripped off her now shattered helmet and dropped it to the floor. The rest of her power armor hadn't faired well either, but the large, metal plates remained intact for the time being. With hope, they'd last until her fight with the Courser was over.

Betty's hair matted to her neck as beads of sweat formed along the thin lines on her forehead. God, she must look awful right then. The elevator door opened and she breathed out a sigh of relief before stepping inside and pressing the button. She glanced at her ghoul and gave him a weak smile, yet he seemed frozen as he leaned against the wall of the elevator.

"...You still with me, John?" she asked, wondering if maybe he'd actually taken too many chems this time around and was about to pass out.

Hancock nodded and said, "It's just..you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now."

Betty's cheeks flushed to a rosy pink and her ghoul chuckled to himself, pleased at the sight of her flush as he'd been since day one.

"Pretty handsome yourself," she replied.

The ghoul pulled her closer to him before he kissed her and he whispered, "Think we got time for a quickie?"

The doors of the elevator opened and he groaned as into Betty's neck as her hand wandered beneath his coat and over the bare, rough skin of his waist.

"Guess you should rip that chip from the Courser's head first before I rip into you," he said.

"That better be a guarantee," said Betty before she pulled her helmet over her head with a wink.

The elevator led to a control room level at the top of the building and Hancock wasted no time in shooting out the spotlights before Betty rushed ahead. The ghoul followed and a few more Gunners met their untimely end at the hands of a very amped up General Parker.

At the top of the stairs, Betty looked back at Hancock and said, "I never realized how much people liked building stairwells back in my time. I should invent a time machine and go back to beat the crap out of them."

"Make sure ya come back," Hancock answered with a grin.

The pair were just about to push open a set of doors when they heard several people talking, and Hancock grabbed Betty's wrist and held up a finger to his lips before he peaked around the corner. A tall man dressed in black loomed with his back to them and he stared down the terrified group of Gunners and their leader who remained in his destructive wake.

Betty tugged on Hancock's sleeve and mouthed, "How many?"

The ghoul held up five fingers and she nodded before loading her laser rifle with several more fusion cells. Hancock followed suit as she handed him three clips for her assault rifle he still used in lieu of a shotgun.

"I don't know the password, I swear! I'm telling the truth!" the Gunner leader cried out. "You killed the guy who had it!"

"I don't believe you.." said the man in black with a cold voice. When Hancock peeked around the corner again, the Courser pointed his own laser rifle at a Gunner's head.

"Oh, God..please no!" the mercenary cried out.

"No, please, -you don't have to do this!" the Gunner leader screamed.

Several laser shots rang out along with the sound of screaming, horrified men.

"All he had to do was tell me the password. Now, are you four going to cooperate?" asked he Courser.

"Listen, I-I'll t-try to help you get in," said the Gunner leader whose voice was heard over the intercom. "But we t-took the girl fair and square and all we want is a little compensation in return!"

The Courser sneered, "You're in no position to negotiate."

"Okay, okay, let me think!" shouted the Gunner leader as he threw his hands up.

The ghoul, as per usual, gave himself and Betty one final look-over before he asked her, "How do ya play this one, love?"

"Come in hot after my cue," Betty replied as she pushed the doors open.

Hancock shook his head and watched the Courser turn to face Betty with a dark, growing smile before the ghoul said under his breath, "Would help if ya let me know what the cue is but, eh, what the hell."

Betty strolled into the room, head held high and Righteous Authority sitting pretty in her arms as the Courser said, "You must be General Parker. Father admires your tenacity, you know. Does your companion not wish to join us?"

"He's dead," Betty lied, her voice flat. "One of those idiots downstairs got a lucky shot and he bled out on the elevator."

Even the Gunners stared at Betty with awe. There they sat, frozen in place with fear of what this Courser would do to them and she didn't even bat an eye. And one of them managed to kill Hancock? Now they were _really_ fucked.

"Shame," said the Courser as he shook his head. "I imagine you must be quite livid with the Gunners. I understand you were close to that ghoul."

Betty glared at the remaining mercenaries, who flinched at the sight of her and she growled, "I'll deal with them later."

The Courser nodded and asked, "So why are you here?"

"You have something I want," she answered.

"Oh? And what may that be? The synth the Gunners managed to capture?" asked the Courser.

Behind him, a young blonde woman peeked out of the barred window of a small office and the Sole Survivor's rage grew tenfold.

Betty nodded and answered, "I also want that chip pulsing inside of your fucking head."

"That you cannot have," said the Courser with a venomous smile of his own.

"You say that but-"

-With a feral grin, Betty sucker punched the Courser and he staggered back with a laugh as he rubbed his jawline.

Hancock broke his cover, throwing his combat knife into the Courser's chest and missing his heart.

"God fucking damn it!" Hancock shouted as Betty took aim with her laser rifle and fired in the Courser's direction, forcing the group of Gunners to scramble out of the way as the Courser returned fire.

"Next time, handsome!" Betty shouted over her shoulder.

He wouldn't miss again, Hancock swore to himself, and the ghoul unloaded several clips into the Courser, and still, he remained upright.

The Courser stood his ground, knife protruding from his chest, and he reached down and snapped off its handle, the blade still embedded in his chest.

"Holy shit," Hancock said with wide eyes.

In seconds, the Courser activated his stealth field and ripped the fusion core from Betty's power armor, throwing it across the room before it exploded in a massive green glow. The power armor fell apart with Betty still inside, and the Courser tore off the helmet. His fist came down and shattered the tile beneath Betty's head as she jerked to the side, certain death missing her by less than an inch.

The Courser reared back to bring his fist down on Betty's head and when his stealth field flickered for the briefest of moments, she jammed her fingers into the wound on his chest, and he recoiled with a blood-curdling scream of pain.

Hancock rushed to free Betty from her metal cage and cracked his assault rifle against the Courser's head before wedging himself between them.

"I'll get ya outta this, hold on!" said Hancock as his hand searched for the steel hoop that would free Betty. The ghoul managed to turn it just enough to force the armor open with a hiss and a hand gripped at his shoulder before he was thrown against the group of Gunners. Without missing a beat, he crushed his fist into the leader's chin and shouted, "Next time, mention me right away, asshole!"

The Courser pulled Betty from her broken power armor by her arm and in true, Hancock fashion, she grabbed the front of the Courser's black leather coat and slammed her forehead into his nose. He dropped her to the blood smeared floor and she kicked out his legs from under him before she took aim and fired a few shots into his side.

"Bad move!" Hancock snarled as he made a grab for a shimmer beneath the fluorescent lights above and twisted the Courser's arm until it broke with a resounding snap, bone and faux flesh protruding from the black leather.

Betty stood up and grabbed the Courser by his throat, her chest heaving, and slammed his head into the wall several times as she bellowed, "GIVE..ME..THAT..FUCKING..CHIP!"

The Courser slumped against the metal wall with a steak of blood, the right side of his head caved in as he looked about the room, his eyes losing focus. It..it shouldn't be possible to out-maneuver a Courser...he was supposed to be infallible. He reached into his black leather coat and pulled out a plasma pistol, but Betty swatted it from his hand with a sneer. Father was wrong; this woman _was_ someone to be feared.

"Why?" asked the Courser and Hancock couldn't help but laugh.

"Because the Institute's taken enough from both me and the Commonwealth. And now, I'm taking some back." Betty pulled the Courser closer and added, "Father's next on my shit list, whoever the hell he is."

Hancock handed Betty his magnum and she thanked him with a kiss upon his ragged cheek before she shot the Courser twice in the heart.

The remaining Gunners thanked Betty over and over, until she pointed Hancock's magnum at them and pulled the trigger four times, each Gunner falling over with a shot to the head.

"How's that for shit talking?" Betty asked her ghoul.

Hancock swallowed hard and said, "Jesus, Birdie. What the hell's gotten into ya?"

She handed him the pistol with a smile before she replied, "You."

He nodded. "You and me together? The world ain't got a fuckin' prayer."

In the midst of the blood and gore they created together, Betty threw her arms around Hancock's neck and kissed him with a fury that could put the sun to shame.

"I love you," Betty whispered. "Crazy in love with you, as you mentioned to me the first time."

Hancock brushed away the hair from her face and said, "If I died right now, it'd be all right, knowin' that you love me."

"I...uh, don't wanna interrupt but I could use a little help over here," said the young woman.

Betty pulled away from Hancock and walked over to the hostage with a goofy smile, a bit over the moon after hearing John's words.

"Sorry, hun. Hancock can be..distracting," said Betty as she dragged away the body of a Gunner blocking the door to the office. "And that Courser took a lot out of us both."

"He..he deserved to die. They all did. Thank you so much. I know you're not here for me but could you guys help me out?" asked the woman.

Hancock joined Betty in dragging the corpses out of the doorway and replied, "'Course. General Parker will have ya outta there in no time. Birdie?"

Betty hacked into the terminal beside the door and gave power back to the elevator before she freed the girl from her makeshift cell. The door opened and she stepped inside, holding her hand out to the young woman and pulling her to her feet.

"We promise we're not here to hurt you. I'm with the Minutemen..as you might've heard during my little exchange with the Gunners earlier. Always happy to help," said Betty.

The woman nodded with a hint of a smile and said, "Hearing your voice gave me hope. Thank you...I don't know what to say..."

"Well, you could start by telling us your name," Betty said with a kind smile that the young woman returned. "You know ours; Betty, Hancock."

The ghoul arched his lack of brow. _Betty Hancock...heh. Not bad._

"My...Institute designation is K1-98, but I prefer Jenny. So yes, I'm a synth, if you haven't already guessed," explained the woman.

"A pleasure, Jenny," Betty replied as they shook hands. "How'd you get caught up in this mess?"

Jenny lowered her gaze and whispered, "I-I ran away from the Institute. I knew they'd send a Courser, I just didn't think he'd find me so fast. I think I would've lost him, too, but then I was captured by these...mercenaries and all this happened. I'm going to head out now, if you don't mind. This was too close for me."

"Of course," said Betty. "I powered up the elevator; you should be able to take it straight down to the ground floor."

Hancock wrapped an arm around Betty's shoulder and added, "If ya pass a town called Goodneighbor, drop by and tell anyone who asks that Mayor Hancock sent ya. You'll be safe from the Institute there."

"No," said Jenny, shaking her head. "The Commonwealth is unforgiving and if I don't learn how to make it out here on my own, I never will."

"A helping hand never hurt anyone," said Betty, "but we understand."

"And that offer of mine will always be there," said Hancock.

The synth smiled and said, "Maybe we'll meet again someday under better circumstances. I...hope we do."

After watching the elevator doors close as Jenny waved her goodbyes, Betty walked over to the Courser's body and dug her fingers into the wound in his chest, pulling the broken blade of Hancock's combat knife free.

"Now you need a new gun _and_ a new knife. I'm a little jealous that you've been rubbing your hands all over my rifle for the past few days," said Betty.

Broken blade in hand, she cut through into the Courser's head where his skull had begun to cave in and winced at the sight of raw brain and splintered bone. She shook her head as she felt herself grow faint and continued cutting through the flesh and bone until her fingers located the glass chip.

"You know I'd rather rub these hands all over you instead," Hancock replied as he watched Betty perform the bit of amateur surgery on her own, impressed that she hadn't puked yet. Even he became ill the first time he carved into a dead body all those decades ago. "But a shotgun's a close second. Rifles were never my thing."

"Because you're a maniac who likes it up close?" she asked with a laugh. "Let's not forget about going in hard and loud."

"Haven't heard ya complain yet."

Betty held out the Courser chip to her ghoul with a bloodied hand and replied, "And you never will. Put this in our backpack?"

Hancock reached into their pack and tossed Betty a bottle of water before he took the chip and tucked it between some of their spare clothes, taking care so it wouldn't shatter. He hadn't even finished zipping the pack closed when Betty tackled him to the floor, her coat already at her waist. He wasted no time in taking his own coat off and pulled Betty's shirt over her head with a grin.


	21. The Road to Freedom

**SORRY! Sorry about the shitty updating. Work has me, well, working. It was a mistake to tell them I'm pretty decent at Technical/Business writing, haha. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for the follows, reviews, and favorites! I'm pleased as punch.**

* * *

The sight of Goodneighbor's newly repaired gates was a sight for sore eyes as Betty and Hancock hobbled back into town, Courser chip in hand. He insisted that they have Dr. Amari examine the piece of Institute tech before crossing the Glowing Sea once more, though Betty didn't understand why Virgil couldn't examine the chip himself.

"God damn, it's good to be home," Hancock announced as they stepped through the gates. "Back from the depths of Hell itself!"

A few of the town's citizens cheered at their mayor's return and he tore off his captain's hat before bowing at the waist.

"Dramatic much?" Betty asked under her breath as she held back her laughter.

"Thought you'd be used to it by now," Hancock answered before he shoved Betty forward. "Your turn, General."

The small crowd cheered for Betty as well and she lifted her hand in a wave, a burn searing itself into her cheeks. Hancock pressed his face against the nape of her neck with a chuckle, enjoying his girl's remaining timidness. One day, her confidence would match or even surpass his own but until then, he would savor the sight of her flush before it disappeared forever.

"I think they like ya more than they like me," Hancock whispered. "Won't hold it against ya if they ask ya to run against me for the mayoral title. Don't plan on winning it, though."

"Oh don't worry, leading the Minutemen is more than enough for me. I'd rather you take charge of the anarchist town," Betty replied, taking his hand. She hardly believed her own words, and laughed to herself as she leaned into his shoulder.

The crowd dispersed in a hurry as heavy footsteps thundered from behind the shops, and Strong lumbered over to the pair before he held out his fist to Hancock, who bumped it with a hearty laugh. The super mutant glanced at Betty with a grunt and offered his knuckles to her as well.

"Fearless leader, Strong tired of boring town," the super mutant growled. "Strong must find milk! Skinny human too drunk to look with Strong!"

"That's...not a word I'd use to describe the place, but that's just me," Hancock replied. "Workin' on the milk thing, though. Tell ya what: Betty and I gotta head back into the Glowing Sea soon. Plenty of shit to kill out there and maybe, we find you some milk."

The super mutant's grin was menacing and he nodded. "Soon?"

"Soon, brother. You break anythin' else since we've been gone?"

Strong barked out a laugh, startling both Betty and Hancock before he answered, "Strong break many things."

"Good thing MacCready's payin' for it," said the ghoul. He turned to Betty and said, "C'mon, love. Let's get that chip to Amari, see what she says."

Once they were out of earshot from Strong, Betty glared at Hancock and asked, "You're not serious about taking Strong with us, are you?"

"Why the hell not? If I keep his ass cooped up in here for too long, there won't be anything left standing in town when we come back. 'Sides, might be for the best to see if he listens to us. If he can't, might have to put him down," he explained. "And I don't wanna do it in front of the kid."

Betty swallowed hard and replied, "Your judgement's been sound so far, so...he should come along. Having a super mutant on our side would be a hell of an advantage."

"Got that right."

When Hancock opened the door to the Memory Den the pair found Nick laying across Irma's couch, his head in her lap while Irma lovingly stroked his face, as the synth flipped through the latest edition of Publick Occurrences.

"Nice to see you both in one piece," quipped the detective without looking up. "Trip went well?"

"Nice to see ya gettin' laid on the regular," Hancock replied with a grin as he and Betty walked past. "Did just fine out there. Don't mind us."

Nick rolled his eyes and smiled up at Irma, who returned the sentiment with a kiss upon his forehead. The front page caught the ghoul's eye and he yanked the newspaper out of the synth's hands.

"I was reading that, if ya didn't notice," said Nick with a heavy sigh.

Hancock could hardly contain himself as he held out the paper to Betty and shouted, "How fuckin' great is this?!"

Splattered across the front page was a picture of herself and Hancock sitting beside one another on Piper's couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he bit down on a cigarette with a bold grin. She studied the woman in the photo, who she knew to be her, and was blown away by who sat pretty beside a very handsome and regal ghoul. Hands folded neat in her lap and her legs tucked beneath, her high, black ponytail seemed stark against her shaved head, even more so in black and white. Inked up, scarred up, and a coat as garish as Hancock's, she certainly matched alongside him.

Beneath the photo, the headline read:

 _ **The Future of the Commonwealth?**_

 _Exclusive Interviews with the Commonwealth's Finest Vanguards_

"Jesus," Betty breathed as her ghoul handed her the newspaper. "That can't be me. I look-"

"-Gorgeous! God fuckin' help me, you runnin' around the Commonwealth lookin' the way ya do. And I ain't too shabby, either. Damn kid got the wrong side of me, though..how'd Mayor Lardass take it?" Hancock asked Nick as he nudged his friend's arm with his boot.

Nick shook his head as he sat up and explained, "As ya might guess, he didn't take it too well. Tried to ban the paper outright and when Piper refused like she always does, he slammed her with some hefty fines. RJ & I helped her pay 'em off, so she's all right now."

Hancock glanced at Betty and said, "Remind me to send the reporter some funds. Ain't right she took the hit for me like that."

"I want to help," Betty insisted without hesitation.

He shook his head. "My fault, I got it."

"I wasn't asking," she replied.

Hancock crossed his arms, clearing his throat as he leaned against Irma's couch and tipped back his captain's hat. "...Eighty/twenty."

It was Betty's turn to laugh and she shook her head. The corners of his mouth lifted just enough for her notice and they shared a silent stare down for a brief moment.

"Sixty/forty," and when his girl didn't budge for a second time, he growled, "All right, even split it is and I don't wanna hear 'nother word about it. Anything else, Nick?"

"Your brother also tried to burn most of the issues but the city was so fascinated over Betty's story, most of the residents refused to hand over their copies. Some even questioned why he felt so threatened over the article."

"My story?" Betty asked, her brows arched high.

Nick chuckled and answered, "Yes, your story. By the way, you're only allowed into Diamond City if security escorts ya. And John? If security catches you, you're to be shot on sight."

Betty slapped a hand to her forehead while Hancock rubbed his hands together with a devilish grin. "Oh, Pat must be really pissed. Never gave the order to flat out snuff me before."

"You gonna tell me more about your trip? Did you find that rogue scientist of yours?" asked the detective.

Betty opened her mouth to answer when Hancock clamped his hand over her lips and said, "Went great; Birdie beat the livin' shit out of an Institute Courser. Tell ya more about it later, cool?"

"Huh...all right. Oh, I left those pictures ya asked for on your desk," Nick said with a nod towards Hancock. "Took Ellie forever to dig 'em up."

The ghoul bumped Nick's fist with a wink and led Betty downstairs to Amari's office.

"What pictures?" Betty asked at the bottom of the stairwell. "And why didn't you want to tell Nick the whole story?"

"You'll love 'em, don't worry," he assured her. "As far as not mentioning everything to Nicky...that Kellogg incident is still fresh and we ain't sayin' shit to anyone 'til we get this chip sorted out. You are gettin' inside the Institute and no one is gonna stop ya if I can help it."

The doctor scribbled onto a clipboard as she looked up and noticed the pair step into her office, hands intertwined and the Sole Survivor's head on his shoulder. It seemed the mayor had claimed his beloved prize and Betty glowed at the sight of the flashy ghoul. Doctor Amari grew fond of Hancock under his watchful gaze, and believed it was about damn time he found someone sane to settle down with. After several years of questionable and rather embarrassing visits to her office, it appeared the mayor had finally met his match.

"You're back! The Glowing Sea..Virgil..what happened?" asked Dr. Amari.

Betty shrugged and replied, "Oh, you know. Took a radiation bath, hung out with another big, green guy. Then, I ripped this encoded chip out of a Courser's head-"

She held up the Courser chip and Dr. Amari's eyes widened.

"-Yeah, he wasn't too happy about that shit," said Hancock. "Oh man, and we fucked up a shit-ton of Gunners and there was a synth-"

"-A..a Courser chip? You fought a Courser? Oh..oh my god." Amari's look of wonderment withered and with sorrowful eyes, she added, "Unfortunately, I can't help you. I'm not sure if Mayor Hancock had disclosed this to you yet...but I've worked on a lot of synths. But never a Courser."

"No, no, John didn't mention anything of the sort.." Betty said with a glare at Hancock, who shoved himself behind a memory lounger with a nervous chuckle as he knocked a tray of silver instruments to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Not my place to tell ya, sunshine," he said over the lounger's glass dome.

"Uh huh," Betty answered, nodding her head.

Dr. Amari threw her hands up and said, "I don't know what that chip does, or even how to decode such a thing. But there are people who might. I...work with a group that, well, they're the only ones I know who even have a chance at cracking Institute security. They're called the Railroad."

"Thank you, Doctor. How do I find them?" asked Betty.

"I can't contact them directly. They usually come to me, when they have a synth that's escaped the Institute and wants to get new memories. But I do have this code phrase of sorts, a clue if I ever needed to find them. 'Follow the Freedom Trail.'"

"Freedom Trail?" Betty asked. "You mean the trail around the city pointing out places of early American history? One of the markers is outside Goodneighbor. You know, for your _house_ , John."

Hancock and Doctor Amari glanced at each other and the ghoul cracked a smile. "That's what those are? Never bothered to read any of 'em before."

Betty crossed her arms with a huff and said, "Wanna say that again, maybe with some truth peppered on top? You're telling me that the only history buff in the room has no idea what those markers are?"

Hancock coughed out a laugh as he rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Mighta..mighta read _somethin'_ about 'em.."

With a tut, Betty turned away from her ghoul, took the doctor's hand in her own and assured her, "You have my word that I won't mention your role to anyone. You've done so much for me, and the least I can do is keep your secret."

"Thank you, General. Please stay safe out there," said Amari. "The Institute and the Railroad have been at each other's throats for years. Once you find the Railroad, you will pose an even greater threat to them, and they'll be sure to come after you both."

"It'll be the biggest mistake of their lives," said Hancock.

* * *

As worn as the old couch in Hancock's office was, it was comparable to the finest piece of furniture Betty could imagine as she sank into the cushions. Soft things were a rarity throughout the wasteland, and she understood why Nick was so fond of anything pleasant to touch. Even Hancock had a penchant for caressing any bit of her bare skin, even while they did the most mundane of things.

"So, are there any other secrets I should be aware of?" Betty asked as Hancock emptied their packs beside his desk.

"None that are mine to tell. You and me? We're good on that front. Just remember, I've been dippin' into all sorts of truces, alliances, and the like for the past decade. A lot of folks trust me to keep certain things under wraps. In time, you'll be doin' the same."

The ghoul's dark eyes fell on a folder sitting atop his desk and his grin was wide.

"Heh, been lookin' forward to this particular trip down memory lane," said Hancock as he sifted through the photos within the folder. With a smile, he handed Betty the folder and said, "Top one's my favorite. Don't tell the girl I showed ya; she'd have my head on a platter."

Betty flipped the folder open and threw her head back with a laugh when she saw a younger, post-ghoul Hancock with a pre-teen Fahrenheit sitting atop his shoulders as they both flexed, the ghoul's tricorn hat perched on his ward's head and her muscles only a wish back then.

"She was tryin' to help me be taller," he explained with a laugh. "Who would've thought she'd tower over everyone in the damn Commonwealth not even a year after this picture."

Betty examined the photo closely and mentioned, "She had the burn on her face back then? For some reason, I believed it was more recent."

Hancock's dark eyes narrowed and he growled, "Pimp burned her when she tried to run away before I showed up. Wish there was some way to bring that cocksucker back to life so I could murder his ass all over again."

"You really love her, don't you?" asked Betty as she nudged his side.

Hancock nodded and replied, "Like my own. Best damn kid anyone could ever ask for. And when we find Shaun, we'll have two of those."

She kissed his cheek before the next picture forced a hard lump into Betty's throat. It wasn't Hancock who sat beside Nick Valentine, boots propped up on the detective's desk, but a young John McDonough. She thumbed over his smooth face; wild, curled hair rolled into a messy bun high on his head, but his wide and charming smile remained the same to present day.

She wiped away the tears that welled up and whispered, "Handsome then, still handsome now."

Hancock smiled. "Man, I sure was a son of a bitch back then."

"A bad boy with a heart of gold? How very cliché," Betty teased.

"It was the truth. But you see why I wouldn't want ya to turn on purpose? If it happens on its own, that's one thing and of course I'd still be crazy about ya, but it'd be a crime to turn someone beautiful into a rottin' mess like me."

"But becoming a 'rotten mess' means I get a few centuries with you, and I'd rather have that over a few decades of smooth skin," Betty replied.

"What if I found a way to change back, if Virgil's serum works and he does me a solid?" he asked. "Would ya still love me?"

"You know I would. Let's say Virgil can make something for you. What if it's not permanent, you turn back..and you're not the same Hancock?" asked Betty.

"You mean feral?"

She nodded, her face grim. "I won't make it, not without you."

"Don't say that-"

"-I am because it's true. A world without John Hancock is not a world I want to live in. It's...it's not right."

Her ghoul gave her a slow nod, and after a moment of silence he promised, "You have my word that I won't look for a way to turn back, so long as you give me yours you won't turn on purpose. Won't stop me from tryin' to find a way around this, though."

She smiled and whispered, "You have mine."

When Betty flipped to the last picture, Hancock leaned over her shoulder and asked, "Who do ya think I look like? Nicky swears I'm a carbon copy of my Pop, inside and out, but I think I look more like Ma."

A wasteland family family of four posed beside one of the gardens in Diamond City. Hancock looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen in the photograph, leaning against a fence post with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. The elder McDonough brother sulked beside him with a sour face and an impressive beer belly for a young man. His mother had a softness to her round face that was almost cherub-like and his father stood proud beside her, arm around her waist with the same, charming smile her love inherited. Indeed, Hancock's father was jaw-droppingly handsome and Betty grinned at the unmistakable resemblance.

"Definitely your father," she answered.

"Nick took this maybe..a few months after we moved to Diamond City. He and Pop were best friends, and then he got stuck with my ass after Pop passed. Ma followed a few weeks after."

"..What happened to them?"

Hancock didn't answer right away and Betty regretted asking such a hard question when he explained, "Pop's drinking habit put mine to shame. Pretty sure that's what did it. After he died, Ma did too, on the inside. Wouldn't eat or do much of anything. Said me and Pat would be fine without her, that we were grown men and we didn't need her anymore. She wanted to be with Pop. I was pissed back then...but ever since I met ya, I understand why she felt that way, because I feel it now."

She kissed his rough cheek and whispered, "You're still screwed for all that fibbing earlier...and not in the fun way."

"Figured that."

Returning her attention to the photo, Betty mentioned, "Your brother looks the same, just older."

Pictures in hand, Hancock walked over to his desk and slid them into a drawer with care. One day, he'd get around to framing them, whether Fahrenheit liked it or not, along with the newspaper. "Yeah, Pat was always a fat sack of shit. Enjoys Fancy Lads Snack Cakes a little bit too much, which normally ain't an issue 'less ya sit around on your ass all day like him. Seein' us in the paper probably made his heart rate jump higher than it's been in decades."

"You're upset," Betty said, turning around on the cushions to face him. "You always do that."

"Do what?"

"Joke around when something bothers you. Spill it."

Hancock paced around his office in silence for some time until he plopped down beside Betty with a frown. He tossed his captain's hat onto the couch across from the pair and propped his boots up on the coffee table, kicking aside the various chems and empty bottles his guards had never gotten around to tidying up.

"What fuckin' good are these minions if they don't even clean up after me?" he muttered under his breath before he faced Betty and said, "Patrick wants me dead, all 'cause I infiltrated his shitty town. Only family I got left wants me dead. It's fucked on so many levels."

Betty took his hand. What was there to say? As an only child, she never faced any sibling rivalry, and was often lonesome growing up without a brother or sister.

"You still have Fahrenheit and Nick," she murmured.

"And you," he replied with a soft grin. "Shaun, too, when he gets thrown into the mix." Hancock chuckled and added, "Man, our family is a fuckin' freak show like no other."

* * *

Following the freedom trail proved more difficult than expected for Betty and Hancock, with the sheer amount of super mutants infesting the area, though Hancock's brand new combat shotgun did most of the work for them, and with relative ease. The trail lead them to the Old North Church, which still stood tall and beautiful. Inside, however, the church had been torn apart, with feral ghouls taking up residence within the church's crypt.

After putting down feral ghoul after feral ghoul in a tightly enclosed space, the pair was out of breath, and though Hancock felt uneasy, he resisted the urge to take Jet. He could do without Betty's mild look of disapproval.

"Hurry it up with the damn puzzle already!" Hancock urged Betty. "This place is makin' me jumpy."

Betty turned a large, stone dial and used it to spell out the word 'Railroad', as every marker they came across during their walk highlighted a specific letter. With every correct choice, a resounding click could be heard.

"Pretty sure it was that hit of Psycho you took after I warned you it would be a bad idea," she replied.

"Yeah, yeah...that shit hasn't been hittin' as good lately. Might stick to booze for a while," said Hancock.

Holding her breath, Betty pressed the center of the seal after choosing each letter, a door hidden in the wall beside the seal slid open. She brought her assault rifle to her shoulder and was baffled when Hancock shook his head and pulled the rifle's barrel downward.

"Keep it handy, but these ain't the sorta folks you wanna point a gun at right away," he whispered.

"Follow your lead?" she asked him, and her ghoul nodded before he walked through the doorway.

It was pitch black as Betty held the tail-end of Hancock's coat, her free hand on her rifle, and the pair shuffled forward until they were blinded by a burning white light. She held back her startled yelp as Hancock shielded his eyes, his arm reaching back for her.

"Stop right there!" a woman with auburn hair ordered, her voice stern.

And she was not alone. Another woman stood to the left of her, snowy, white hair falling across her eyes and a massive minigun in hand. On the woman's right, a young man in a newsboy cap, pointing a rifle Betty had never seen before.

"You both went through a lot of effort to get here, but before we go any further, answer my questions," said the woman. "Who the hell are you?"

Hancock lifted his hands and said, "Mayor Hancock, Goodneighbor...but I ain't the one ya wanna talk to."

He moved to the side and Betty stepped out from behind his protective stance, her eyes falling to the minigun pointed at them. Somehow, she believed that meeting with the Railroad would be less dangerous than meeting with the Brotherhood of Steel...and man, was she ever wrong.

The woman cocked her head with new interest and looked to Betty. "And you?"

"General Betty Parker..Commonwealth Minutemen. We followed the Freedom Trail to look for the Railroad. I'm not your enemy," Betty explained. At least her voice sounded stronger than she felt.

"If that's true, then you have nothing to fear. Who told you how to contact us?" the woman asked.

Betty shook her head and said, "I don't want to get anyone into trouble, so you're out of luck-"

"-And don't bother askin' me, I ain't a snitch," Hancock added with a dismissing wave.

The woman nodded and replied, "We'll find out one way or another. Last question: Why are you here?"

The certainty of the woman's words didn't make Betty feel any better about the situation with Amari. If she were punished or killed for attempting to help, the Brotherhood of Steel wouldn't be the only faction to possibly burn to the ground. For now, Betty decided the truth was best, at least for this question in particular, and explained, "I found a Courser chip. Can your people decode it?"

"You have what?!" shouted the woman. "This is not a joking matter!"

The woman's two companions glanced at each other with wide eyes. It seemed that murdering a Courser was not an every day occurrence at the Railroad and Betty wasn't sure whether that weighed in her favor or made her an even larger threat.

She hoped with all her might that it was the former.

A dark-haired man about Betty's age walked into the crypt, wearing only a simple white t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and a pair of sunglasses. At first glance, Betty was reminded of the greaser types she hung out with during her reckless youthful days.

The man held his hand over his chest with a short gasp and said to the woman, "I didn't know we were having a party! What gives with my invitation? Oh! I see you invited the Courser killer. Nice. 'Sup, Hancock!"

"What's goin' on, my man? Haven't seen ya 'round town in a minute," Hancock replied, and both men raised their fists with cheesy grins as if to bump them from clear across the crypt.

The man chuckled and answered, "Oh...I was around. All over, really. Near some vault, D-City, your neck of the woods, some fort, another fort, Bunker Hill.."

As the man continued to count off all the places he's been in recent months, Betty's blood ran cold when she realized he'd been _following_ her since she left the vault.

"Deacon! ..You're late. Are you saying this intruder actually killed a Courser? Without more backup? That would give even Glory a run for her money," scoffed the woman as she nodded toward the heavy hitter with the minigun and white-hot hair.

Deacon grinned and said, "Newsflash boss: This lady is kind of a big deal. If you're done interrogating her, you might wanna show this Courser murdering machine a little courtesy. She's the new Minutemen General, if you didn't know. Just a thought."

"Yes, she mentioned that," the woman replied, her heavy sigh one of frustration and genuine exhaustion. She looked down at Betty and added, "I..owe you an apology. Anyone who kills a Courser is good in my book. I'm Desdemona, and I'm the leader of the Railroad."

"Hopefully we can work something out. I think it'd help across the board," said Betty. "I really need your help with this. The Institute decimated my family, not the nukes that hit Boston, and those bastards will pay dearly."

Desdemona nodded and said, "What you're asking puts us in a tricky position."

"I..have no one else to ask," Betty replied in earnest.

Hancock's hand appeared at her shoulder and he whispered, "We ain't leavin' 'til they give us what you need."

Something about Hancock's words stirred a primal urge within Betty's mind. Perhaps it was how the corner of his lip curled up as he spoke; a ruthless, almost vicious tone of voice. Part of her considered burning down the entire church if Desdemona shunned her request.

Nothing, not a god damn thing, would stop her.

"Dez, we need to let them in," Deacon insisted. "Hancock's always been good to us and she's got an intact Courser chip for God's sake. What the hell more do you want?"

Betty turned to Hancock and whispered, "Wait, you know them?"

"Just Deacon and you-know-who. Never met any of the others 'til now. Hell, I'm pretty sure they didn't expect me to be a ghoul. D likes to...bend the truth."

"Deacon, allowing either of them to enter violates our security protocols," said Desdemona through gritted teeth.

"To hell with it!" Deacon shouted. "She. Killed. A. Courser! There's no way she's working for the Institute; they'd have her head! And Hancock wouldn't vouch for just anyone."

The young man wearing the newsboy cap scoffed and muttered, "Unless he's screwing them.."

Hancock exhaled a sharp breath and gripped his combat shotgun so tight that the ruined skin of his knuckles stretched thin until it was a ghostly white.

After a moment of pensive silence, Desdemona spoke up. "We'll allow you into our headquarters. You two are the first outsiders ever to be given this privilege. We can discuss the details about your chip inside."

The leader of the Railroad and the Minutemen General looked at one another for what felt like ages and a hopeful smile grew on Desdemona's tired face. With the minigun-toting heavy named Glory behind her, Desdemona turned to walk up the stone steps.

When Betty walked past the younger man, he grabbed her wrist and hissed, "Don't try anything, stranger."

Deacon swallowed hard and groaned, "Uh oh."

The butt of Hancock's shotgun slammed into the young man's jaw and he dropped to the ground, a bit dazed from such a forceful assault. Hancock pinned him by the neck and snarled, "Bad fuckin' move... _friend_."

"John-" Betty began to say, but Hancock held out his hand to silence her.

"-No way, love. It's between me and this prick."

Not wanting a bloodbath to occur moments after coming to an agreement with the elusive faction, Betty turned to Desdemona with pleading eyes.

Desdemona looked back and studied the scene as it unfolded before she called out, "Give them some space, Drummer Boy. We can trust Hancock's judgement. And Deacon's. For now."

Drummer Boy spat out a mouthful of bright, crimson blood and looked up at the ghoul, who wore a most sinister grin, before he scurried after Desdemona and the unknown heavy.

"Not surprised to see you two shackin' up together," Deacon said with a rough pat on Hancock's shoulder.

"You would know, considering you've been following my every move since I left the vault," Betty snapped. "What the hell else do you know? About me? My son?"

Even Hancock glared at Deacon, his grip on his shotgun tightening once again. "You've been doin' what now?"

Deacon held up his hands, looking back and forth at Betty and Hancock before he explained, "Whoa, whoa! The Institute was digging around the vault for a few weeks before General Badass here crawled out. I was following them. Wanted to know what made them so curious. Now it's obvious. They've unleashed a real-life comic book hero, no wonder they're freaking out."

Betty's eyes narrowed at Deacon's response, and that was when she noticed how tight the muscles in his neck were. Stiff shoulders. Deacon was a liar, and she saw right through it.

"Next time your boss asks ya to slink around after us, I'd appreciate a heads up or else-" The end of Hancock's shotgun found its way beneath Deacon's chin and the Railroad agent gulped. "-No amount of plastic surgery is gonna put your fuckin' head back together. You feel me?"

"Yeah, I-I gotcha. Sorry about this reception, too, since you're forcing me to apologize at gunpoint. Again. But when you tango with the Institute you gotta be careful when someone new gets on the dance floor," Deacon explained.

Betty slowly nodded her head. "...Your leader was just being cautious. I can respect that."

"Gettin' real fuckin' tired of people pointing guns at us and insultin' ya, Birdie." Hancock turned to Deacon and added, "I'm gonna feed grenades to the next dumbass who says somethin' rude about her."

"You do your fair share of gun pointing, you know," Betty said to Hancock with a smirk.

"It's different when I do it. I do it outta love and all that."

"Yeaaaaaaah, but it kinda killed our chance-and yours-at a friendly first impression. But it should be all good now. I vouched for you both. Nobody got shot. Still, I would consider it a close, personal favor if you didn't sell us out to the Institute. Because that would fall badly. On me. Please don't," Deacon said to the pair.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Betty asked, "So, why did you vouch for me?"

Deacon smiled, and to Betty's surprise, it was quite kind and genuine. "In our little outfit, it's my job to know things. And with everything you've done it's clear you're capable. A dangerous enemy. And, I'm betting, a valuable ally."

Hancock nudged her side as he lit a cigarette and said, "See, I ain't the only one."

"Why the trust?" asked Betty. "You can't be taking it all on faith."

With a shrug, Deacon answered, "I don't. I don't know if we can trust you. But I hope we can. We trust Hancock..sorta...and we also just survived a hell of a crisis. So, we may be just a teeny, weeny bit desperate for new members. If everything was sunshine and bottle caps, we'd probably play a longer 'getting to know you' game."

"I don't like games," she said.

"Well, it's a good thing we don't have that luxury, then," Deacon replied, his voice cheery as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, never breaking eye contact with Betty.

Betty was onto something with Deacon, Hancock had figured that much by now. He'd never seen her be so cold with someone she'd just met. Usually, she was the ray of sunshine when meeting someone new, but there was something about Deacon in particular that pestered her. He couldn't wait to watch as she lost her shit on a smart ass, and for once, it wouldn't be him.

"Anything else you'd like to mention?" she asked.

Deacon barked out a laugh and answered, "You just don't give up, do you? All right, I have a short list of people I think would be a good fit for the family here. You piqued my interest, so maybe I asked around. Did my homework. If you hadn't found us, there's a chance I would've found you instead. Thanks for saving me the trip."

"Do you know what I did for a living before the bombs fell?" she asked.

"Sure have a lot of questions for me, huh?" Deacon asked with a grin.

"Stop fucking around and answer me."

Deacon laughed heartily, rubbing his hand over his chin before he turned to her and replied, "Nope. Not a clue. What's up with the third degree?"

"You're a god damn liar, and if you don't answer correctly, I might go the 'Hancock' route and shoot my way through your secret club if you don't play nice. You know the answer, so say it."

Hancock raised his brow and said, "Birdie-"

"-Stay the hell out of this."

The cigarette fell from Hancock's lips and he gulped. "Holy shit, all right."

It was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to him, and Hancock knew right then that he was staring at his future wife.

"You were an attorney. Public Defender, if you'd rather hear specifics. Had quite the reputation for being 'unnecessarily aggressive' in court. Very nice," said Deacon with a wink. "And you know that's no bullshit."

"Not in the slightest," Betty replied. "I'd prefer a little less deception, if you want me to trust you."

Deacon held out his hand and said with the utmost confidence, "I'm not one to hold grudges. If you help my family, I promise I won't ever screw you over. If that's not the truth, Hancock can shoot me. Deal?"

"Deal," and Betty shook Deacon's hand.


End file.
